Save Me
by colormetheworld
Summary: AU. A doctor. Her patient. What it means to be saved.
1. One

"What do you mean they can't get in? She's restrained isn't she?"

"Yes, doctor, she-"

"Then what's the problem?" She glares at the EMT. Everyone around her is incompetent.

"The door. It's the door, Ma'am. It won't open."

"So the door is stuck?" She heaves an impatient sigh. "Well why not call one of the maintenance men to-"

"No, Doctor," The EMT goes pale as he recognizes his mistake. Nobody interrupts this doctor. He begins to trip over his words at once. "n-no. I'm sorry. I mean, yes, we've called a maintenance man. The-the…the door. It-it is not stuck." He holds his hands out hopelessly. "It just…will not open. When she was unconscious, the Attending on duty came and went as he pleased…but now…it will not open."

"What has changed?"

He hesitates. "N-n-nothing has changed," he stammers, "Except that the patient is conscious."

"You've contradicted yourself," She says coldly, and when he looks at her, confused, she goes on. "'Nothing has changed…something has changed.'" She watches his face for comprehension, "Clarity of language. They obviously did not teach it to you in school, but I require it in all my conversations."

He is speechless for a moment, and then, "All that has changed is the consciousness of the patient. And that the door will not open."

She looks at him sharply, but doesn't challenge him. "And the patient?" she asks, starting to walk again and he jumps to follow at once.

"Caucasian female, mid to late twenties, undernourished. Blood pressure low in the field, heart rate erratic. Three broken ribs and a broken wrist. Several superficial lacerations, and bruising. Pulled unconscious from the wreckage almost fifty two minutes after the explosion."

"What are the extent of her burns?"

"…There are none, Doctor," the EMT responds, and when she stops walking, he stops too, looking up into her face. She thinks he looks like a mouse that has just crawled over the paw of a lion. She flicks her eyes to the name tag pinned to his chest. "Andrew," she says, and if possible he goes a little paler. They have many names for her, around the hospital: Ice Queen, Frigid, Barracuda…Queen of the dead.

She narrows her eyes, "Not one burn?"

He trembles. She loves it. "No ma'am."

"She was pulled from the 11th street explosion?"

"Yes ma'am."

She looks at him. He will not meet her eyes.

"We're talking about the 11th street compound? The one that's been on the news for two weeks. The one that has resulted in thirteen police deaths and countless injuries to come through my ER…The 11th street compound that _blew up_ seventy…" she looks at her watch, "seven minutes ago? That is the wreckage you pulled this woman from?"

"Well, n-not me, Doctor…I just…" But her eyes flash and he realizes that he's taken her words too literally. "Yes," he tries again, "That wreckage."

"And she has not one burn on her anywhere?" This man is an idiot. Why do they continue to send her incompetent fools? Can _anyone_ be an EMT these days?

"No, Doctor, not one burn on her…Anywhere."

They've been walking and talking, and as they round the corner to the observation room where the patient is being kept, they find several nurses and two men with giant tool belts, running around in a flurry of activity.

"We'll break the glass if we have to," someone is saying, "Then we'll send in a team. If she can do that to the room…"

"That was Fucking amazing…she's the god damn incredible hulk…."

"I'm not goin in there. Not without a tranq gun and a hockey mask…"

The doctor heaves another sigh, speeding up. _Honestly_. "What is going on?" she asks one of the nurses who goes to rush by her.

"The patient has slipped her restraints. She destroyed the room, removing her IV in the process. She is bleeding! No one can get through the door. The maintenance men can't even get the screws out to take it off its hinges," she cries as she runs by.

"What?" The doctor is immediately livid. "Honestly," out loud this time, as she pushes past another nurse and makes her way to the observation room. "Is everyone, everywhere just completely incompetent? Who did her restraints? Why in the hell was she able to-"

But the scene that meets her eyes makes her stop short. Looking through the giant glass window she sees the woman, back to her, standing among a scene of total devastation.

Everything that is not nailed to the floor has been disrupted. The IV drip, the tray of silver instruments, all the items that rested on the desk in the corner, and, most impressively, the hospital bed itself, are overturned and scattered. The room looks like a hurricane has blown through it. Destruction is not the proper term for this scene.

"How did she…" for the second time, the doctor finds herself speechless as she takes in the patient.

She is tall, and quite thin, although the muscles in her arms and calves indicate that she is not as undernourished as the EMT led her to believe. And if she was strong enough to overturn that bed…

And with three broken ribs…

Her hair is long and dark and unruly, and facing away like that, the doctor can see that it falls past her shoulder blades.

Her arms hang limp by her sides, and she stands, perfectly still, facing the opposite wall. The doctor watches her shoulders rise and fall slowly.

One of her arms is incased in a black plaster cast, and the other - the doctor sees now that this is what has been causing the real concern - is dripping blood steadily onto the tiled ground. She must have pulled the IV out lengthwise.

There is a loud crunch next to her, making her jump, and she turns to see that one of the maintenance men has kicked the observation room door in his frustration.

"C'mon, you fucker," he growls, oblivious to her presence, "It doesn't make any fahking sense." He kicks it again, and the door pushes open about three inches and then slams shut again. The doctor frowns as the man looks at her, eyebrows up.

"It's like something's pushing at it from the other side, right?"

She does not answer, but looks back into the observation room at the other side of the wooden door. There is nothing there.

She looks back at the woman, still facing away, as the maintenance man kicks the door again. This time it does not budge, but the woman's arm shoots up, just after the hard thunk of his boot on the door, and she puts it against the wall, like she's bracing herself.

"Stop," She says to the man, although she does not immediately know why. She moves forward, and puts her hand against the glass.

[No. _No. _NO!]

Her breathing goes quick and shallow and she pulls her hand away from the glass like she's been burned, letting out a yelp. She staggers backwards.

"Doctor?" A nurse comes up beside her. "Are you alright?"

The doctor looks down at the young woman, trying to find the right answer. She doesn't see that the woman in the observation room as turned around.

"I…yes…I am," she says, trying to refocus herself. Too many hours on the job, the stress of the casualties and injuries from the explosion. Of course she's having moments of…

"Did you hurt yourself? You look…scared." The nurse is young, probably new or she would know not to press.

But…yes. Her overwhelming feeling just now had been of fear. Terror actually, if she is going to follow her own rules about language clarity. She had felt…terror.

But not her own.

She looks at the nurse again, to reassure her that she is indeed fine, but the young woman has gone pale. She is staring over the doctors shoulder, and when she turns around, she has to work quickly to keep herself from crying out again.

The woman has turned around. She has come right up to the window, and she has put her un-casted hand, her bleeding one, up against the window, in the same spot where the doctor's was just a moment ago.

"She is creepy." The nurse says, turning away, but the doctor steps back up to the window.

Facing her, staring at her intently, the doctor takes in two deep brown eyes and a strong, angular jawline, bruised and nicked with miniscule cuts. She examines the long delicate neck and the collarbone, down to where it disappears beneath the hospital gown.

She looks, unaware that she is being examined as well. Her brow furrows as she realizes that the EMT from earlier, what had his name been…Adam? He was right. There is not one burn on her that the doctor can see.

"Miraculous," she breathes, though she knows she will eventually find the actual reason for this phenomenon. The woman behind the glass shifts, making her look back up at her face.

Their eyes meet. Wide deep brown. Narrow confused green.

Something pulls at the doctor's mind. Niggling, like she's forgotten something quite important. When asked to describe it later, the precision of language will fail the doctor so completely, that all she will say is, _it felt as though she were knocking on the back of my brain._

She puts her hand on the door of the observation room, gently, and although she will deny this, even to herself for months afterward, she thinks just one thought.

_Let me in._

The door pushes in at her touch.

* * *

**Tumblr says post this. It's a multi. Fifteen Chapters. I hope that if you read this and you say...oh yeah, I know where this is going and I think it's stupid, you will change your mind, like some of you did with The Moment, and JGMAR. I try to take things somewhere new...and I try to keep the writing decent and engaging, even if the subject matter is not something you would normally pick up...I...i don't know. I urge you to give this a chance.  
Or you know..don't. **

**:) **

**I'm not the boss of you. **


	2. Two

...

_[you killed those people] She stands next to Him, but she doesn't look out the window. she is upset. scared. But she doesn't have to tell Him. He knows. _

_[you killed them.]_

_He turns to look at her and He is sad, but not because of the murder. He is sad for her. He turns from the window to look at her. she doesn't try to hide her fear or her anger or her hesitation. He knows all of that._

_[they're going to come for you]_

_she shakes her head. [you promised they would not]_

_He shakes His head and she know what He's going to tell her. She can feel His apologies and His sorrow. She rejects them. but the words that come are different. He can still hide somethings from her, it seems. [you are the best thing I've ever done. Do not allow the men to change you. To hook you to machines and keep you locked away. Alright? Do not allow it]_

_And now she does go to Him. now she do touches Him, reaches out and holds onto Him and he hugs her too. [protect yourself] a whisper in the back of her mind. a command. _

_and then there is nothing but fire. and He is torn away from her and it's like severing one of her tendons, that's how she knows He is dead. _

_She is engulfed in flames and she is crying, crying crying. _

_She feels bones break and they make her cry harder, not because it hurts but because she can feel it and He will not feel anything ever, ever again. But she does not stop. He has told her to protect herself and she will. To her dying breath. She does not let those she loves down. _

_The flames lick at the outside of her sanctuary like the forked tongues of dragons. _

_And when she is too tired to continue. when the flames are not so hot and there is a wailing like sirens in her head. When there is water, cool and gasping, falling over her and winking in the streetlight like stars. Only then does she let go, and the darkness consumes her completely. _

_..._

* * *

_..._

The three male nurses that charge into the room after the doctor immediately fall to their knees, hands shooting to their ears. She looks down at them, flabbergasted, baffled. She cannot hear anything that would cause her to have that reaction. Nothing at all.

"Augggh," The nurse on her right convulses, eyes streaming. He works to crawl back to the door. "WHAT IS THAT?" he is yelling.

The doctor looks at the men on the ground around her. All of them clutching at their ears. All of them writhing in pain, as though hearing something loud and uncomfortable.

She looks at them, and then up at her patient, confused.

The woman has backed herself into the corner, and her bleeding hand is out. shaking. as if she can press the intruders back and away from her. Her brown eyes are on the Doctor, fixed and wide and...she pauses. Trying to read what's written there. Defiance. Strength.

"Doc...Doc..." One of the nurses is moaning, half crawling towards the door. The other two have already made it back over the threshold, and her she can see them standing, panting, hands on their knees, down the hall by the nurses station.

She looks back at the woman. Her whole arms is shaking now, and when the doctor looks up at her face, she realizes that her nose has begun to bleed.

"Damnit," she hisses, and she bends down to help guide the incapacitated nurse out of the room.

As soon as they cross the threshold, his entire body relaxes.

Without waiting to speak to any one of them, she turns and pushes back through the door on her own.

The door clicks softly behind her. She is again aware of that strange feeling at the back of her mind. a pulling, like a tiny tug of war. She pushes it away.

"My name is Doctor Maura Isles," she says quickly, and when she takes a step forward the woman takes a step back, looking unsure.

"Don't be frightened," she says shortly, looking down at the woman's preliminary charts. "I am not going to hurt you."

When she looks up again, the woman is staring at her again. The doctor is struck by the idea that perhaps she does not speak English.

"Hablas espanol?" She asks, but the woman looks blanker than before. She tilts her head, taking in the dark brown curls and the olive skin, the curve of the nose. "Parli italiano?" she asks, and although something flickers in the woman's eyes, she does not answer.

"Vy govorite Rossii?"

Nothing.

The Doctor sighs and makes a note on her chart, rubbing absently at her forehead. "Perhaps you do not speak any language at all," she says more to herself than to the woman. "Who knows what went on in that compound or how long you'd been there."

She glances around the demolished room. "Though...you were clearly not undernourished or deprived of exercise...Your chart says you have three broken ribs, yet you flipped this bed over, did you not?" She looks up at the woman, stepping over to an overturned stool. Her patient does not move as she turns it right side up. "Were you angry? Frightened?"

The eyes do not blink. There is something about them...She notices that the woman's shoulders relax a bit when she speaks.

The Doctor shakes her head, sighing again. She steps away from the stool and gestures to it. "I need you to come here," she says, slowly and deliberately, showing with her hands what she wants. She keeps her voice low, and the shoulders drop a little more.

Her patient looks at the stool and then back at her, and the doctor realizes that her legs are shaking now too. She looks pale and exhausted. She doesn't move.

The doctor frowns, and takes a step closer to her, watching the dark eyes flick to her hands and then back to her face.

"You are bleeding from where you pulled the IV out of your hand," she says, "It was a foolish thing to do. And you have a small nosebleed, which is probably from exertion."

She takes a step closer and the woman's hand twitches, like an involuntary muscle spasm.

The doctor feels a ripple run through her, like a spark of electricity, that shoots from her toes up to her hairline. Not painful, but definitely not pleasant. For a fraction of a second, her vision blurs and she stumbles a little. She catches her breath.

"Oh," she gasps, and her hand goes to her chest as she tries to breathe. the woman's hand tightens into a fist.

As quickly as the feeling has come, it disappears."I'm sorry," the doctor says quickly, righting herself as the feeling fades. "I...I don't know what that was." She straightens herself. "But like I was saying...you do not have to be afraid of me. I will not hurt you."

She puts her hand out, only a foot and a half from the patient now. "Come here," she says, and although she is out of practice, she thinks she manages to make her voice a little gentle. "Come here, honey, I am not going to harm you."

Honey. She's not sure where that came from. But in the absence of a name, she needs something to call this woman, and if nothing else, the name seems to make the taller woman curious.

She steps around the doctor, avoiding her outstretched hand, and sits down on the stool. She tilts her head and looks up at the doctor, waiting.

"Do you understand me? Or is it obvious what I want you to do," The doctor wonders aloud, and she sets her chart down on the side of the overturned bed, and steps up to the woman. She holds out her hand and the brown eyes look at her hand and then up into the doctor's face.

"I need your hand," she says quietly. "I need to bandage it properly."

There is silence, and for a moment, neither of them moves. The doctor watches the woman study her, her gaze is like searching.  
"What are you looking for?" she asks, and she is surprised at the way her voice comes out like a whisper. "Are you looking for something...in me?" The idea comes quickly and without warning, like it has been put in her mind, dropped off without her knowledge. "What is your name?"

Brown eyes flip back and forth between her green ones. Dark eyebrows furrow, confused and scared and...curious.

The woman opens her mouth, and the doctor leans forward, ready to hear whatever it is she is going to say.

But then the door bursts open and a man steps over the threshold, and his booming voice makes her look around.

"Doctor Isles, come away from there. NOW."

She straightens up, turning away from the woman, irritated and confused. "What is the meaning of-"

But she doesn't get to finish her sentence. The man, who she recognizes as Chief of Medicine, Dr. Ian Faulkner, reaches out and grabs her, pulling her roughly out the door of the room. The action is not a moment too soon, for the doctors have just stepped out into the hall when the hospital bed, all four hundred and eighty seven pounds of it, slams against the observation room wall behind them. Perpendicular to the floor.

Propelled from behind as if from a canon.

...

* * *

...

Dr. Faulkner is not convinced that she is alright. He leads her to his office, flanked by three other doctors whose name she cannot remember. His hand stays firmly at her elbow, raising it up a little higher than is comfortable. She tries to pull away, but he tightens his grip, not letting go until he has guided her into a seat at the front of his desk. He sits down in his own chair, and looks at her carefully.

"You didn't touch it, did you, Maura?"

She rankles a little bit at his familiar use of her name. At the hospital she does not like to be addressed as anything but Doctor. She'd explained this to him when they'd first started sleeping together. That she wanted to remain professional. He'd been alright for the first month, but he was forgetting now. Becoming entirely too comfortable.

"Touch what, Doctor?" she asks now, putting a hard edge on the last word. She cannot tell if she is more irritated at the way he has handled her in front of their colleagues or at the fact that she seemed to be getting somewhere with the patient and he interrupted her. "Was it necessary to pull me out of that consultation so harshly? I was just about to-"

"Touch it," he interrupts her. The intern behind her squirms uncomfortably. "I know. That is why I acted the way I did."

She sits back in the chair, her brow knitting together. "You are calling the patient, a woman who is showing obvious signs of abuse and isolation, an it," she says, and they may call her frigid all they want, this idea is foreign to her. "You are using an object pronoun, Doctor Faulkner."

He frowns her for a moment, and then looks at the intern standing behind her, "You have it?" he asks and the intern steps forward, handing him a disk. "Good," he pauses to fit the disk into his computer. "Get out of here. Only come back if there is an emergency. If something goes wrong with the sedation and the transfer."

The doctor's eyes widen as she watches the two doctors leave. "Sedation and transfer..." She begins, but Doctor Faulkner holds his hand up.

"Maura," he begins, "Did you even see what happened. What that thing did to the bed when I stepped into the room?"

"Are you referring to my patient?" Anger is stirring in the doctor now. "I did. So she's exceptionally strong. We knew that from her destruction of the room before my arrival. Perhaps she has some type of drug in her system that-"

"It is no drug," He interrupts.

She throws her hands up, "For God's sake! Is everyone hellbent on interrupting me today? Repeatedly? What is going _on_?" Maura leans forward. Fuck pleasantries. "Ian. What is going on? Why are you referring to my patient as though she is a chair or a desk. She is not a thing. She a s woman. A very scared, possibly mute, woman, whom I had calmed down and compliant, before you burst in intent on-"

But he looks at his computer screen and then tilts it towards her. "Look at this, Maura." his voice is low. "Watch this video feed of the observation room, and then you can lecture me on correct vocabulary all you want."

Maura sighs heavily, but turns her attention to the screen just as the woman, restrained, IV drip in her hand, opens her eyes.

...

* * *

...

_Everything is blurry when she opens her eyes, but immediately she is blinking and blinking and looking around for Him. But she knows, even as she sends out for Him that he's not going to reply. _

_She hurts. She feels as though she's been kicked in the ribs, but the ache is dull and far away. Kept away. She looks down at her hand. A needle. A tube. _

do not let them hook you up to machines.

_No! Fuck. No! She reaches out to pull it from her hand, but her arm does not obey. She turns her head, looking down. _

_Bindings. straps. restraints. _

Hook you up to machines and lock you away. Change you.

_No. she can feel her heart rate building. Feel the change coming, feel it surge through her with strength that she'd never had in the compound. Strength that she'd only ever seen Him possess. _

_No. No. No. like her heart beat. Off. Off. get them. Get them Off. off. _

_[OFF!] It bursts away from her like an explosion. _

_And she feels her hands go free. feels the IV rip away from her hand, taking some of her skin with it. _

_[OFF!] It reverberates around her skull like a boomerang. Terror and pain and grief of loss. She waves her newly freed hands around her head. and the tray on the desk in the corner skims through the air like a skipping stone, crashing against the opposite wall with a echo like a gong. _

_[No. NO. NO.] she pushs out, hard, like she can feel the air. Like she controls it. And the chair and the stool in the room flip over. _

_[OUT] the bed underneath her heaves. Throws her onto her knees. She has no one. He is gone and men have taken her. She has failed. _

you are the best thing I have ever done.

_She is mourning. Grief is ripping at her. Stripping her of any kind of control. And she is possessed of a new, stronger, more fearsome power than she's ever felt before. The door starts to open in the corner and before she can even form the wish the protection burns inside of her. it seals the door. It rocks the bed, turning it over once. twice. _

_She is up. She is on her feet. She is terrible. They will have to kill her or leave. her. the [FUCK ALONE!] _

_the bed twists again, though nobody is touching it. And when she pushes out this time, she can feel everything in the room. It is hers and she controls it. She curls her hands into fists. A box of tissues explodes. A jar of tongue depressors. _

_The door shakes. She almost smiles. [No] she does not need all her effort for this. [no]. _

_She turns from the door to face the wall. The door shudders again. [No. No! NO!]_

_but then she feels it. a tugging. a pulling at the outside of her feeling. _

_Him. _

_She whirls to the observation window, eyes wide, searching. Where is He?_

_But it's not Him, with his hand pressed against the glass. It's a woman, with blonde hair and sharp features, and when you look at her, she knows she felt the pulling too. He did not mention anything about a woman. _

_She stare. _

_She knows this woman has felt it too. she looks and looks. And it's never happened before. _

_she can hear the doctor's mind_

_..._

* * *

_..._

The doctor sits rigid in her seat, staring at the computer, mouth open. Even after the feed shuts off, she continues to stare at the blank screen, her brain both effectively paralyzed and whirring faster than it ever has.

"She was keeping that door shut," Ian's voice makes her jump. She'd forgotten he was in the room.

"Th-that's impossible."

"You saw it with your eyes. She did not touch that bed, yet it flipped over. Twice. That instrument tray flew like she threw it."

The doctor cannot wrap her mind around it. She does not put any type of credence in the supernatural or the science fiction. She does not believe. Not at all. "This is. This is impossible."

Ian leans across his desk, "Explain it then, Doctor," he says and his voice would be mocking if it didn't sound so terrified.

She looks up at him. "The nurses I brought in."

"She did something to them. They heard something, and now two of them have partial hearing loss. Don't know if it's temporary or permanent."

Maura opens and shuts her mouth a couple of times. She does not believe. She does not. She... "Ian," formalities be damned. "She didn't do it to me."

Whatever he is going to say in response is lost as the door bangs open so hard that it bounces back against the form in the doorway. Maura sees the intern from before, breathless and pale.

"Langley?" Ian is standing already.

"She's stopping the tranq gun dead. Hit three guys with their own bullets. Can't get near her. No one can get-"

But Ian and the doctor are already running, brushing past him and sprinting down the hall and around the corner.

...

She rounds the corner and if she did not believe before, there is nothing here that helps her hold onto her ideas of reality. As she watches, a man aims a thing barreled gun through the observation room door and pulls the trigger. onetwothree. Quick succession.

"No!" She doesn't know she's moving again until she is in front of the picture window. As she looks in, she sees the woman, the patient, whatever she...it...is, put up her hand, and the darts stop dead, like they've hit a wall.

Her face is a mixture of pain and fury. She is furious.

"No!" Maura calls, and she's moving again. She runs up behind the man, she's stepping in front of the gun. hands out. She does not know why she does this, but the moment the woman's brown eyes find her, her face changes completely.

She stands up straight, her eyes clearing to...to what? happiness? The doctor does not have a chance to ponder it because the woman makes one gesture. One clean swipe of her hand down through the air, and the doctor is thrown forward into the observation room, onto her knees. and the door slams hard behind her.

.

When she looks up, the woman is close to her, less than a foot. The doctor sits up quickly, backing up, and the woman takes several steps back too, looking afraid.

They are hammering on the door, she can hear them, and the woman spares the door one glare, before fixing her eyes back on the doctor.

She stands, fixing her skirt, looking around the room at the tranquilizer darts that litter the floor and the scattered instruments and tongue depressors and cotton balls, rubber gloves.

"You're scared," she says. And then louder as she looks at the woman in front of her. "You're frightened, aren't you? And we have not been terribly hospitable."

She steps forward, and there is that tugging again. She looks into the taller woman's face.

"Are you...are you doing that?"

No answer.

"Do you understand me? Did anyone ever teach you to speak?"

Nothing.

"I do not believe in the supernatural. There is something else at play here," she takes another step forward. She holds out her hand.

"You are a woman. Someone has treated you quiet horribly. possibly experimented on you..." Another step. The woman doesn't pull away. She seems to be listening. The doctor takes a breath.

"Come here," she says quietly. "Come here. I will not hurt you." She doesn't move. The doctor barely breathes. She tries again.

"Come here."

For a moment, nothing. And then. The woman moves. she takes three steps, and they are less than seven inches apart, and the doctor is aware that the hammering on the door has stopped and the pulling in her mind is harder. stronger.

She reaches out.

She takes the woman's hand. She looks up into wide, surprised brown eyes. It's there. On her tongue. Right, and she can't explain it.

"Jane."

* * *

**Ya'll are on board! It's lovely! Let's get this show on the road!**


	3. Three

"I want to scan her brain."

"Don't speak about her like she's not even here. She can hear you, you know. She understands some of your tone."

"Oh, _forgive_ me doctor...Hey...You. Alien! I...want to scannn...your brain. Alriiiight?"

Dr. Isles frowns at the way Ian draws out each syllable, like he's speaking to a monkey...or a dog.

"She is a human," The doctor says now, and she moves to stand next to Jane, who has been watching the exchange with an expression that flickers a little darker each time Dr. Faulkner speaks.

"She has full spacial ability," she feels the woman's eyes on her and switches the target of her mini speech. "and your motor skills are exceptional, too, Jane."

"Why do you insist on calling her that?"

The doctor frowns a bit. "That's her name."

Ian smirks. "You're just calling her that for Jane Doe, aren't you? Or did her alien psychic powers tell you so?"

Dr. Isles is about to answer, when the brunette sitting beside her lets out a growl, low, and deep and actually rather threatening, her eyes fixed on Ian.

"Stop it," Maura says, meaning it, and Jane stops at once, looking sulky.

"God. It's like an animal,"

"Do not...call her IT!" She bursts out. "Honestly." She turns to Jane who looks up at her, concerned. The doctor tries to make her voice softer, but it is hard with Ian staring at her like she's mad. She takes a breath, watching Jane's eyes search her face.

"I'm going to speak to Dr. Faulkner, Jane, outside. You look around your new room. I'll return shortly, alright?"

The woman watches her move towards the exit with Ian, and Dr. Isles thinks she looks sad, even though she makes no attempt to stop them.

* * *

...

_She knows that what the doctors and people around her are doing is language, is called speaking. And she can even pick up a few of the words, because she'd asked Him about it when she was younger, but for the most part she guesses what Dr. Isles wants. _

_When she was eleven or twelve, she'd heard the sound of something drifting up and in through her open window from the street below The memories and emotions that had accompanied the sound were beautiful and sweet. Like nothing she'd ever felt before. He'd found her, sitting dreamily at the window long after whatever it was had passed by below her. _

_[what was that sound?]_

_He'd smiled and come to sit next to her, pushing her hair out of her eyes. [that was children. singing.]_

_The feeling had not found a home inside her mind. [singing] She'd wanted to see it. for Him to spell it out, but she'd known better than to ask. _

_"Singing" He'd said, for her benefit, and her eyes had gone wide at a voice she so rarely heard. He'd made a gesture, backing it up with something that felt like irritation. [something they do. to pass the time. to communicate.]_

_[language?] _

_He'd grunted and she'd felt his impatience like a steadying hand on her shoulder. holding her back [yes. language.]_

_she'd opened her mouth and called on some long forgotten muscle memory. producing something low and rumbling in her chest, not like singing at all. _

_And He had smacked her hard across the face with an open palm. [stop that]_

_it had been years since He'd had to raise a hand to her and she cowered instantly. [I want to sing]_

_His disapproval and His annoyance and the image of her silhouette, lonely and abandoned. He hadn't needed to form a conclusion for her. She'd drawn her own. Singing was not something she was allowed to do. Not if she wanted to stay with Him._

_But she couldn't help herself, and as he'd stood to leave her, she'd sent him the faded memory of a woman. kind eyes like hers. long light hair. she'd wrapped it in a question. [did my mother sing?]_

_He'd stopped but hadn't turned to her. Their connection went blank, and for a moment she was scared and alone. Lost. She'd hated that feeling more than when He'd hit her. The feeling of reaching and getting dead air._

_[yes. she was normal] the idea He gives back is draped in disdain [mediocre, I should say. and so yes. I would assume that she used language, as archaic as it is, to it's fullest extent]_

_He'd left her then, closing the door on her dark and wild mane of hair and her even wilder thoughts. _

_The doctor does not deal in the type of communication that Jane understands. She figures out what the doctor wants from her based on what her face is doing. That...and the scraps of emotion that work their way through the dull grey barrier of her language. _

_The doctor does not daydream. Does not imagine. And when Jane reaches, looking for connection, she is met with resistance. She finds nothing to hold onto. _

_But she does not give up. _

_..._

* * *

_..._

"She is quite extraordinary isn't she?" Doctor Isles stands with Dr. Faulkner outside of the new observation room, watching Jane acquaint herself with her new surroundings. The woman moves around the room, looking at everything, before settling herself in one of the chairs.

The doctor feels a drag at the back of her skull, and watches as the dark head turns towards the one way glass at once.

At first Dr. Isles had been uneasy with the way her patient always seemed to be able to just sense when she was in the vicinity, but now, she finds it almost...comforting. She shakes her head, trying to stay on topic. "I honestly think that she does not possess language...although she seems , sometimes, to understand the general idea of what I need for her to do. Especially if I put a strong emotion behind it." The doctor turns to take in her colleague. He is watching Jane with a sort of predatory glint in his eye. She frowns.

"Dr. Faulkner?"

"It's been three days and it hasn't moved anything. It hasn't made anything fly."

"Maybe _she_ does not actually have that ability, Dr. Faulker."  
The doctor does not like his tone, or the way he refers to Jane as an inanimate object. Ian spares her one glance of deepest disdain. They are standing outside of Jane's new observation room, outfitted like a little studio apartment, looking in at the woman as she examines her surroundings.

"You told her not to," Ian mutters. "And since she only listens to you…"

The doctor makes an irritated motion with her shoulders. This is true. She had told Jane that she was not to lose control again, that no one was going to hurt her. And even though she had not answered, she had come to stand close to her, and had followed her to a new room without so much as making a paper flutter. And the doctor had known that she understood what was expected of her.

"It's possible that she was exposed to something at the compound. Something that gave her, well a type of...a sort of charge that-"

"What, made it possible for her to flip a five hundred pound hospital bed?" Ian turns to her. "Maura, that thing in there is the greatest scientific find we've had since-"

"That scientific find is a person, Ian." If he can interrupt her, she can do the same.

But he scoffs, dismissive. "Since when have you been concerned with the welfare of humans?" His tone aims to wound, and for a moment, he succeeds. She feels the cutting remark like the blade of an actual knife. Behind the two way mirror, Jane stands up, looking.

"I always put the welfare of my patient before everything else."

Ian laughs, and it is a cruel sound. "Yes, you do, Dr. Isles," he says coldly, "Above bedside manner and common courtesy. Above social graces and pleasantries. The welfare of your patient. Stop at nothing. Oh, that we could all be so virtuous and steadfast as you."

She steps back from him, shocked, but he follows her, pointing. "Well, what's best for your patient, in this moment, Dr. Isles, is that she prove that she can move something. That she prove that we did not waste our energy and time calling in favors and setting up meetings."

Her eyes widen. "What have you done?"

He glares, "What is it to you?"

"As her Attending, and lead on her case I have a right to know-"

"As Chief of staff, I'm telling you what you _need_ to know. You _need_ to get her to show her worth. I don't really care if you have to train her like a circus pony. You do not have a choice," he says, holding up his hand to forestall her argument. "You _have_ to, or the consequences for all of us will be dire."

And with that, he turns on his heel, leaving her to stare after his retreating form.

...

Dr. Isles sits down across from Jane, looking up into her puzzled face.

"Hello again, Jane." there is something about saying the woman's name that makes her feel warm.

Her patient smiles, a cheeky, brilliant gesture that catches the doctor off guard. At first she is confused as to what she's done to earn this expression, but then she realizes.

"Ah," she smiles herself, "you like that I have learned your name."

There's the familiar tug. The shakes her head, like she's resisting, and the smile drops off Jane's face. For a moment, Maura allows herself to wonder where it went, before putting on a professional smile and focusing on the task at hand.

Jane's expression gets a little more confused.

"Listen," Maura sets the chart down on the table between them, all business right away. "I need you to make something move."

Jane tilts her head to the side, looking at her. She seems mildly interested. Maura bites her lip, she is still not sure that the woman in front of her can understand English. "I need you to move something without touching it. Can you do that? Like before?"  
Jane crinkles her brow, looking pleasantly baffled. She has the cutest dimples.

Maura sighs, running her hand through her hair, trying to ground herself. thinking back to the moment that she's watched Jane stop the darts in midair. If she could just communicate that that was what she needed…

The grunt that Jane makes causes Maura to snap her head up to look. It had sounded almost like a sound of understanding. The doctor looks up into chocolate eyes, eyebrows knit together in a frown. Maura sits back. "What is it? Can you not do it?"

A tilt of the head.

"Can you not do it because you no longer possess the…power?"

Jane tilts her head back the other way, the baffled expression creeping back over her features. The doctor feels a pull, insistent. She resists. She doesn't know why, but it makes her feel uncomfortable...out of control. She is still not sure that the woman in front of her is making it happen, or that she is even completely in control of what she does. Dr. Isles leans forward a little. "Are you hesitant to try again because you think it will be like last time?" Something dawns on the doctor, "_Can_ you control it?"

Another image of the wrecked, dismantled room. Another wave of frustration and need.

Suddenly Jane is standing. The doctor looks up at her, confused as Jane gestures at her, wanting her to stand as well.

As soon as she is, the woman flicks her wrist casually, and at once the doctor feels as though there is a hand pressing against her chest. Hard. She staggers backwards with a little gasp, more of surprise than of pain.

"Ow!" when she rights herself, she sees that Jane is overturning a bowl on the desk, the contents, three apples, two pears and a banana, spilling out onto the desk. She turns back to Dr. Isles, approaching her slowly, empty bowl in hand.

The doctor cannot move. She stands frozen, watching this tall dark woman approach the corner where she has been pushed.

When they are almost toe to toe, Jane looks down into the doctor's eyes, like she's asking for permission.

Dr. Isles holds her breath. She nods.

And Jane leans forward an puts the bowl upside down on her head. She steps back for a moment, as if checking out her handiwork, and then leans forward, stretching out her hand to knock twice on the makeshift helmet. she grins at the blonde, eyebrows up.

The doctor is caught between trepidation and a new, unfelt type of emotion...she cannot quite put her finger on it. It is nice.

Jane turns around, looking at the little room. She focuses on the bed, and suddenly, the doctor knows what's going to happen before it does. She pushes one hand out, like she's pushing someone away from her.

The bed in the corner of the room heaves off the floor to stand straight up, pillows and blankets slide down towards the floor, but with one flick of her free hand they shoot out, away from the bed towards the opposite end of the room, where Maura stands.

"Stop!" The doctor turns her face away from the scene, closing her eyes. She doesn't know why it makes her heart race like that. Doesn't know why she feels terrified.

There is a resounding thunk, and when she turns to look, the bed is back in it's place, and Jane is looking at her, pale and confused and guilty. She looks like a little child, caught in wrongdoing, or a dog that has been hit.

"Oh," the doctor says, hand over her heart, "Oh, Jane...I'm-I...I am sorry. I didn't mean to yell like that." She rubs her hands together. "I tell you to do one thing and then I say another...And you barely understand me in the first place...I-I am. very sorry." Slowly, Jane lifts one finger, still looking wary, and the bowl covering Maura's head rises gently into the air.

Dr. Isles almost smiles. "Thank you. And thank you, for thinking of my protection." The doctor stifles a yawn behind her hand and looks at her watch. She has been in the Hospital for almost seventeen hours, ten of them spent with Jane. She is exhausted.

She thinks briefly of home, and of her bed. How little she's seen of it recently.

Like she's heard a command, Jane turns away from her and heads toward her own bed in the corner. Sitting down on it with a small sigh.

Dr. Isles follows her, curious, sitting down on the edge of it while Jane lies down on her back and looks up at the doctor expectantly. It's like they've had a conversation that Dr. Isles has missed.

Maura studies her. "Why did you do that?" her voice is low, almost scared. She tries to think back to the moments before Jane had moved to the bed. She'd been tired, had thought about lying down in her bed and closing her eyes.

As if she's spoken a command out loud. Jane shuts her eyes, pressing her lips together in a thin line, feigning sleep.

Something clicks inside the doctor's brain. the tugging. the half understanding. She'd thought about Jane's bed flipped over, and Jane had flipped this new one...for her.

"Are you..." She shakes her head, hardly daring to consider it. "Are you reading my thoughts?"

She looks around the room, her eyes landing on the fruit. "I want that banana," she says, pointing it out to Jane. She watches the brunette's eyes flick over to the fruit and then back, confused, eager to please.

Dr. Isles takes a breath. "I must be crazy," she mutters, and then closes her eyes, pulling up the image of a banana in her minds eye. _I want that, _ she thinks carefully, and she pictures herself smiling.

A gentle tap on her shoulder makes her open her eyes.

A banana is hovering next to her arm. supported by nothing, and Jane sits, looking at her, all hopeful brown eyes.

...

Jane looks down at her long fingers, like she's concentrating. The doctor waits.

It is the end of their fourth night together, and Dr. Isles is getting ready to leave. They've spent most of the day looking at vocabulary flash cards.

"How is she going to do anything for you if she can't communicate?" Dr. Isles had yelled at Dr. Faulker earlier that day. She'd decided that it was best to play along with whatever he had planned, and in return for her apparent change of heart, he'd taken her off of rotation and assigned her, solely, to Jane's care. She is dreading the revelation of what he has in mind for her patient, but right now she tries to push it from her mind. And she is successful when a dark head lifts to look at her...and speaks.

"Ing-ing." It's guttural and raspy and deep and the doctor looks up, eyes wide, barely daring to hope.

"inging," it comes again, falling from Jane's lips and Maura claps her hands together, rocking back on the bed, laughing, and brown eyes look up quickly, shocked.

"you're speaking!" she cries, "I am not sure what you are saying to me, but it is a phoneme, definitely." She tries to think of something that can convey pride. How she'd felt standing at the podium at her college graduation. Valedictorian. So proud!

The tugging, gentle this time, and then Jane's eyes have come alive, they sparkle back at the doctor, intrigued and happy and full. "inging!" she says a little louder, though her voice stays deep and raspy. "inging, inging."

Maura crinkles her nose, running through vocabulary words in her head. "ing. ing." she repeats quietly, and Jane leans forward expectantly, watching her mouth. She points at Maura's lips, waiting.

"inging." she says again.

"Oh," the doctor leans back. "_Oh._ Singing." Her green eyes go wide as she understands. "OH! You want me to sing?"

Jane leans back against the pillow (she has yet to use a blanket at all) and closes her eyes. "ing." she whispers.

Dr. Isles takes a deep breath, her brain whirring over years and years of memories, and she opens her mouth to say that there are no melodies inside of her, but what comes out of her mouth is a song.

_Someone told me love will all save us. _

_But how can that be, look what love gave us._

_A world full of killing, and blood-spilling_

_That world never came._

_And they say that a hero can save us. _

_Im not gonna stand here and wait. _

_I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles. _

_Watch as we all fly away._

It's an old song. Cheesy. She doesn't even know where it came from. But the doctor watches the brown eyes close and the chest rise and fall evenly, and the pull at the base of her skull lessens and lessens until it is gone.

She misses it immediately, although she will later pass this feeling off as a simple awareness of the absent.

The doctor yawns, exhausted herself, and thinks about going home to catch a couple hours sleep before coming back to the hospital. She moves to get off the bed, and Jane stirs.

She looks down at her, sleeping there, and on impulse, she reaches out and runs one hand through her hair, fingers coming in contact with her scalp.

Immediately, everything around her is extinguished, like she's been plunged into tar.

The lights of the room, the sound of the doctors outside, the sound of Jane's deep breathing. All are gone. Wiped clean. There is nothing but black.

She can't make a noise. Her scream gets caught in her throat. She has the sensation she is falling.

The doctor is tumbling. Dragged down, down, down.

into a nightmare that is vivid and crisp and clear and terrifying...

and definitely not her own.

* * *

_**Ooo barracuda. I'm not gonna lie to you. This story has a bunch of pseudo cliffhangers. I am sorry not sorry. **_

_**But I DO LOVE YOU GUYS. thank you so much for giving this a chance. Forward!**_


	4. Four

_Her head is on fire. She grabs at it. That makes it worse. _

_[assent] The word is in her head, but it is not a word, it is a feeling, forced there without her permission. It does not belong to her. _

_She screams. "Mama! Help me! Mama!" She pulls her hands away from her head to clutch at her stomach. It feels as though she's been gutted. Like her skin has been stretched over a frame that is much too big. She rolls over and vomits onto the ground. She feels concrete beneath her hands. The smell of her sick makes her dry heave even when there is nothing left. _

"We should not have don't this. She was too old."

"this will work. It has to."

"Kill her. Put her out of her misery"

"No! This is the one I want"

_Her hands find her head again, tangle in dark curls, matted and sweaty. Her fingers trip over a scar. It runs in a parabola from the front of her hair line and back._

_[Little girl, do not fight it] a wave of despair. Of condescension. She is immobile. She is on the the floor and she cannot move. she tries but something holds her. Tears at her. These emotions do not belong. _

"What you're doing…You don't know how it will turn out. You don't know what she could become."

"I know I'm tired of watching the others languish and die. I know this is the greatest thing I've done to date."

_These emotions are not hers. She rejects them. She fights against them. Pain is in orbit around each of her bones. She holds her head together so it does not break apart. _

_[Little girl. Give in. Give in, now.]_

_Her head rolls and she is sick again. Sweat drips from her nose onto the floor. She is full of what does not belong to her, and she does not possess a heart that can hold it all. Everything about her is breaking. Shattering outwards, like a window being broken. _

"She is still too weak. Too little. Put her back to sleep. In another year…"

Her hands find a corner, a wall, and she scrabbles at it, trying to right herself.

"It has been three years. I have been patient long enough. I will not wait any longer."

_[Give in. take it. Do not be afraid] but that's all she is is fear. Fear and pain and… fury. What is that? That feeling like something growing? Anger. She pushes out at the wall and it crumbles underneath her fingers. It hurts. She keeps going. If she cannot be moved. She will take down the wall. If she cannot be free she will implode them all. _

"Dear God. Dear God…Beckett…What have you done?"

_She stands. She is spinning. The pain is fading now. She takes her hands from her hair. She raises them up. She raises them all up, floor, house, everything. She pulls it in. Then [OUT]. _

_She gives in. She uses it. They. Can. Not. Hold her. _

_There is the sound of a cannon. Of walls crumbling. There is nothing but black. _

_She opens her eyes. _

_Nothing can hold her. _

"Jesus, Danny. What have you fucking done. Look at what she can do. At seven. What have you done, man?"

_Nothing can hold her. _

"I've made a God"

* * *

_…_

"Dr Isles!"

"no. no. my head…" She moans, does not open her eyes. The resident standing over her shakes her again. "DR. ISLES. Should I get a medic? Another Doctor? Dr. ISLES.?!"

She blinks. Someone is pulling at her. She blinks again, and the face of her patient swims into view, pale and terrified.

They are not touching anymore. The hand on her arm belongs to someone else.

"Should I page Dr. Faulkner? Get Security? Dr. Isles?"

She looks around to see third year resident Susie Chang shaking her arm vigorously. She blinks, trying to pull herself back into consciousness.

"Wha? What is…" The earth shifts under her feet as Susie practically hauls her up. "Are you injured? Do you need me to call someone? Did it…she…did she harm you?"  
The woman's voice seems to be coming down a long tunnel. She is aware that she is moving, that her feet are carrying her…somewhere, but her brain feels overworked. Everything she looks at seems to come through a haze of panic and grief, but the emotions don't seem like hers…they are secondary, like a new level of consciousness.

"Dr. Isles?" She blinks and she's standing in the hallway outside of Jane's observation room, Dr. Chang's hand is still on her arm. "Dr. Isles. Are you alright? Should I page Dr. Faulkner?"

The images and emotions fading rapidly now, Dr. Isles manages to make her mouth move.

"No! No. Thank you Dr. Chang…I can…I can handle this." She tries to keep her voice from shaking and is not entirely successful. The resident looks at her, concern still evident in her features. "Are you sure, doctor?"

Dr. Isles wants this woman gone. She wants to go in and comfort the shivering woman who has wrapped her arms around her knees and is cowering on the bed.

"Yes," She says shortly, finally managing to pull herself together. "Yes, thank you for waking me, Dr. Chang. It appears I was having a nightmare."

The young woman cocks her head slightly, "You both were…It sounded like you were both having the same one."

Dr. Isles stares at her, "What?"

Dr. Chang looks a little embarrassed, "Well, when I looked in and realized you were in distress, and not…I mean…when I realized you were…uh…dreaming…I ran in and…" She blushes a little bit. "You hand your hands around the patient's head…in her hair. And…you were both…sort of… rocking…and groaning." The blush deepens as the young resident rushes to correct herself, "painful!" she clarifies, "like you were in pain…not like…I mean…"

The doctor thinks she succeeds not only in keeping her face neutral, but in looking a bit fearsome, because Dr. Chang breaks off and looks down at her feet.

"I see," Dr. Isles manages, surprised at how cold she sounds. "And what is it that you came to tell me, Dr. Chang?"

The young woman seems to remember her mission, and she holds up a thin folder. "I got a match on the dental records. You told me to bring them directly to you if they came in." She places the folder in the doctor's hands, and Dr. Isles opens the chart, glancing down at it.  
"Thank you, Dr. Chang. That will be all," she says shortly, and the resident turns and scurries away, clearly relieved.

The doctor turns and looks back through the glass, feeling her heart leap into her throat. Jane is sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to her chest, face hidden behind her hair.

The doctor pushes at the door, relieved that she can get back through, but the moment she steps over the threshold, she is pushed back, like she's hit an invisible wall. She tries to take a step towards Jane, but it is like walking in a wind tunnel. The brunette looks up at her, wide eyed. She flicks her wrist and the doctor feels the force against her intensify. She is being pushed at, kept away, and behind the strength and the force, she can feel something else, deep and shivering and hidden away.

Fear.

"Stop," you try to keep your voice calm. "Jane. Stop. Let me over there. I have to make sure you're alright." She tries to think of something comforting, something reassuring, but now that she is back in the room, the nightmare is lingering around her like the end of a rainstorm.

"Please," she says. "I need to make sure you're alright." She does not know if she wants to do this because of the sound that Jane made when Dr. Chang had yanked her away, or because of the weird half out of body half first person dream she's just had, that leaves her with an image of a preteen Jane, half conscious as a building crumbles around her.

The pushing lessens a bit, and the doctor takes a step forward. "I'm not going to hurt you," she says quickly, trying to come up with some type of image or emotion to back that up. "I won't. I am not angry. I…I just need to see if you are alright."

The push back stops, and the doctor stumbles forward a little. She moves quickly to the bed, but when she sits down, she slows down her movements, scared.

"Jane?"

The woman looks at her, eyes wide and full of tears. Something in the doctor's heart pulls a little. "Are you alright?"

Jane looks away, and the silence stretches between them for a long while.

"Jane…" The doctor doesn't know what to say. Everything in her background is telling her that things like this woman simply do not exist. "I-I…What that man did…what they were saying…was that…a dream?" The brown eyes find hers again, "or a memory?"

Jane sits up, huffing, her shoulders moving up and down, like she's frustrated.

"No!" she says, and the word is clear and well formed. The doctor's eyebrows shoot up. "Stop!" She swipes her hand down through the air and the bed shudders a little bit. She looks up at the doctor, and holds out her hand.

"Show," she says.

Dr. Isles hesitates. "I admit, after what just happened, I…I am afraid to touch you, Jane…" She looks up into nervous brown eyes. "Did you mean to do that? Too pull me into that world with you? Was that a nightmare?"

The woman in front of her doesn't answer. The pull is back, harder and more insistent than it's been in the past. She shakes her head, and her hand stretches a little bit further.

"stop," gentle, maybe a little pleading. "show."

The doctor looks from the hand held out to her up into the woman's face, lined and beseeching.

The doctor nods once. And reaches out to take Jane's hand.

...

* * *

…

[doctor]

Dr. Isles blinks several times, and a face above her swims into view. For a moment, she thinks she has fallen back into a nightmare, the feelings and half spoken phrases are back, filling her up like music. But then she recognizes the overhead lights of the observation room.

She sits up slowly, aware that her hand is still interlocked with Jane's. "What. Happened?"

Immediately she feels a stab on nausea, prickling her skin. But the sensation is detached, half there, like some sort of advanced virtual reality. And underneath it, another emotion. Dr. Isles blinks again. Comfort. Someone is comforting her.  
But no one is speaking.

Looking at the woman in front of her, the doctor tries to think of something to ask that will explain everything.

[you passed out. Are you okay?] Like in the nightmare, she feels the words rather than hears them, and it is not so much words as a combination of…everything else.

But she knows as plainly as if the brunette has spoken. She nods.

The sentences…she can't call them sentences…but that's what they are…are broken. She's missing some parts of them.

She feels fear and immediately, like a picture, she sees herself, but cracked and broken. And there's a question. It circles back on herself.

The doctor closes her eyes, trying to understand. She feels confusion and fear that are not her own and sees herself, not a memory or a prophecy but shaded and hazy. Her hair is too blonde and her fingers are small and delicate. She sees herself…imagined.

She tries to slow it down.

Fear confusion.

Herself imagined, hurt and broken.

[did I hurt you? Are you hurt?] her eyes snap open as she understands. "ohhh, my goodness," She leans closer to Jane, something like chills running up her back. The brunette watches her, and Dr. Isles feels the question come again. Sees herself, hurt, and feels someone else's (_Jane's_, the realization hits her like a fist) fear and confusion, feels the curl of a question. The open ended-ness of sentences that need an answer. [Did I hurt you? Are you hurt?]

She manages to shake her head. Her mind feels full, like two people wrapped in a twin blanket. "No…no I'm…" She trails off as another sensation wraps around her, warm and sweet and foreign in its silky pleasantness. Relief. Jane is relived. And satisfied.

[Good.]

Dr. Isles takes a deep, shuddering breath. She means it to steady her, but it just seems to unnerve her even more. She breathes in and then cannot let it out. She covers her face with her hands.

At once there is something soft. Something gentle around her, like arms. It soothes her. And she feels the detached sort of hurt that comes with making someone feel bad, with hurting someone's feelings.

[I did…I'm sorry.] The doctor can feel the meaning like the brunette is speaking to her, and it dawns on her suddenly that she is.

Her head snaps up. "You're speaking to me," she says, and "You're speaking…_in_ me."

Jane tilts her head, and Maura realizes that she is only hearing the emotions. She doesn't understand the actual spoken words.

Struggling to do so without closing her eyes, she imagines the two of them talking. She tries to call on the emotion of shock, but just comes up with the face: eyes wide, mouth open.

Next to her, Jane giggles. [yes.]

Dr. Isles smiles, and pretends to look angry. "I suppose my attempts to do that must be juvenile to you. You have had much more practice at this than I have," she says slowly, and when Jane tilts her head this time. The doctor realizes that she _is_ listening…but not to her words.

[you learn fast] with a little bit of pride.

"How do you know?" the doctor asks, looking down to smooth her skirt. It is something she does when she's nervous.

Unbidden into her mind comes the memory of learning to ride a bicycle. Hazy and worn, like a picture taken out of its protective sleeve too often.

She wobbles, but the bike stays upright. She pedals hard. Maura catches her breath, blinking, but just as suddenly, the memory gets broken. Punched through like it is made of smoke.

She feels satisfaction, not hers, and a vague sense of righteousness, also foreign, and the sentence is there again. Like magic.

[see? You are a fast learner.]

She looks at the brunette in awe. "How are you doing that? This is impossible. That you could know that. Did you…take that from me?"

Jane chuckles, and the answer is only to one of her questions. [easier than it looks.]

The doctor feels a little lightheaded. No…her head feels heavier than it ever has. Fuller. She can only stare at the woman in front of her. So normal looking.

"Can you read everybody? Can you see everybody's…everything like that?" The doctor shivers at the memory of seeing her own life float before her eyes without her permission. "Can you do that to everyone?"

A frown, dark eyes go hard, like steel. [I couldn't before. I think I could now. If I wanted to] There is something rigid, like grief, there, but the doctor doesn't push it.

Dr. Isles has just remembered the feeling like something has been pulling at her brain, how it sat with her all this past week, and she puts a hand to the back of her head, realizing with a start that it is gone. Her eyes widen at the implications. "You…You ask first."

[I'm not a brute. Not completely impolite] The feeling that accompanies this is indignation.

The Doctor smiles, but it fades after a moment. "I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable, with your unlimited...access. All the…all the things that I have…" But she doesn't quite know how to continue.

[I should leave you?] the image is like ripping, curled up into a question, and the underlying emotion, hidden under genuine concern and questioning, is one reminiscent of pain.

"I-" she hesitates, but when she looks in Jane's eyes, she realizes that the other woman already knows the answer.

[hold on.]

The change is immediate. It is like going to bed hot and waking up shivering, suddenly she is empty. There is too much room inside of her. She shivers and then finds she cannot stop.

She looks up at Jane, who is looking back intently. "Oh, God," it just slips out, and she is amazed and a little frightened by the immediacy with which she misses the feeling.

"No," she says, and her voice shakes. "Come back."

Jane does at once, tentatively, like pouring water into a glass that is already almost full. The doctor sighs. Her shoulders relax.

[you are comfortable.] soft and warm, hands that she can trust, the actual picture of comfort.

"I-yes…" She is surprised at the truth. "Maybe you could…ask before you take anymore of..of my memories?"

A tiny frown creases Jane's forehead. [they are still there. They are still yours. I did not take them] and the doctor feels steal instead of take. And the low growl of being insulted.

"Oh...I…no. Alright. Well, what I meant was.." She tries to find the vocabulary necessary, but again, the brunette understands before she gets there. Of course she does, Dr. Isles reminds herself. She is inside her head.

[I will not…take…what you don't give me.]

The doctor is unsure.

[I promise.] it is a fearsome emotion, that promise. It makes the doctor shudder. But it also makes her believe. "Alright," she says slowly.

[the other doctor is not. Comfortable.]

The doctor's eyes widen, the image of Dr. Faulkner and the lurch of dislike make her almost smile. "Oh? You've…done this to Dr. Faulkner?" She doesn't know why the idea makes a hot rush of jealousy expand inside of her.

There is a pause, like a wave against a beach, and Jane raises an eyebrow. But if she feels the burn in Maura's chest, she does not acknowledge it.

[No. he resisted much harder than you. I do not understand anything from him. He does not feel safe.] Safety. Like being dipped in something warm and humid, and a little rough.

Maura is not aware that she sighs again. She considers the brunette's words. Or rather, she considers what the woman is conveying to her. "And I feel safe?"

A flash of her hand against the glass, one completely demolished observation room and a surge of panic that slips almost immediately into the tranquility of deep green eyes.

[yes. You do.]

...

* * *

…

Jane Clementine Rizzoli.

Dr. Isles looks at the file in her hands. At the chubby, wide eyed little girl in the photo attached.

She reads: _Jane Clementine Rizzoli, born April fourteen, 1986, seven pounds, three ounces, to Angela Christine and Francesco Antonio Rizzoli. Killed in a car crash at the age of four…_

The doctor stops, circling back. Yes. She's read it right. The dental records that match her patient also belong to a four year old, killed in a car crash in the winter of 1990.

Dr. Isles flips a page.

_While driving home from a winter vacation in Vermont, the Rizzoli family, Francesco Senior, Angela, and their two children, Jane and Francesco Junior ages four and eighteen months, were struck by a driver who fell asleep at the wheel and crossed the median. _

_The car was knocked into a ditch, throwing both Angela and her daughter through the front windshield of the vehicle. It is believed that the woman had her daughter on her lap, and therefore the pair was not securely fastened. The family of four was taken to a nearby Hospital, where four year old Jane was pronounced dead after a three hour attempt to relieve bleeding in the brain. Angela was treated for several broken bones, but released AMA the next morning into the care of her Husband. _

Dr. Isles looks up, trying to make sense of everything she has just read. Clearly, Dr. Chang has made a mistake. The woman in the observation room down the hall is not this bright eyed little four year old. That girl is dead. Her patient…is very much very...very different.

The doctor shakes her head and looks back down at the paper, eyes scanning the damages. A fractured skull, a broken collarbone, an atrocious brain bleed, among several other things. Yes. This child most definitely died. Dr. Isles puts the file down and shuts her eyes.

Quick, like a camera flash, something pulls at her. Panicky and white hot.

Her eyes snap open and she looks around her office. She is on the sixth floor, five above her patient, but she could have sworn…

It happens again. One flash of panic, _Jane's _panic and it rockets up her spine in waves. Like a sonic explosion. She stands up, hand to her heart. "Jane?"

Another wave of panic, this time laced with anger, and an image, blurry and fogged, but enough to make the doctor head for the door and the elevator at once, because it is of Ian Faulkner. Standing in Jane's observation room. Three men on either side of him, and even in the blurry transmission from her patient's terrified mind, she can read the white writing across their chests, realizing with another rush of terror, that Jane won't understand it.

S.W.A.T

She presses the down button so hard that the skin under her fingernails turns white. "hold on," she thinks desperately. "Hold on…don't let them take you."

Panic shoots through her again, her own dread mixing and mingling with that of the brunette below her. The elevator is not coming. The doctor punches the button again. "hold on, hold on, hold on."

But this time, when the feeling comes, it is listing towards hopeless. It is softer, drifting. It comes with a call, and the Doctor closes her eyes so that she can better understand it. She shifts through the panic and the desperation and the fear, and then she hears it. Feels it. _Knows _it.

[Maura]

Her name. [Help me] like the way a hand would slip from hers a the last crucial moment.

Green eyes snap open.

The doctor turns towards the door to the stairwell.

She runs.

* * *

**I feel like this chapter is going to be where I lose some of you. And after crying and pulling my hair about it...I decided that I don't need to take on baldness for the love of my readers. If this chapter turns you off? Thank you so much for reading it and I hope that you come back for my other, less LCD induced stuff. **

**For those of you that did find it Intriguing...yay! I hope you'll stick around for the answers. Here are some things I want to point out (from your PMs and everything) **

**1. yeah. Ian's a Dick. he always will be in my mind.  
2. The way Jane communicates is completely wordless. Obviously, I HAVE to use words in order to ...you know...write my fan fic...but I hope it comes across that the way she and Maura are used to communicating is TOTALLY different. It will continue to be a problem.  
3. You cannot have a R&I fic without Charles Hoyt...but don't go looking for him just yet.  
4. YES. IAN IS A DICK. gets better before it gets worse, yall.  
5. all the movies and things you are comparing me to...I have not seen. :( I've never seen X-files, or twilight zone, or Dr. Who, or...um like any of the other things you guys are talking about. I've seen Hancock...but I don't think it's like that...really. She's not invincible and she cant' fly and she's not an alcoholic. lol. If I had to make a comparison it would be like...Matilda reads minds and kicks a****

anyway. as always you guys are amazing. Ilove you all dearly for hanging in. And if you can't hang in anymore. I still love you. I'm just so indebted to each of you...gah. don't get me started.

**happy reading!**

**tc**


	5. Five

She is not in time.

As she rounds the corner to the observation rooms she feels glass crunching under her feet and looks down, and then up and around, confused.

The doctor gasps. Every window lining the hall is blown out. Shattered. "Jane!" she calls, bounding forward. "Jane?"

She rounds the corner to her patient's room and the sight makes her cry out again.

There are nine SWAT team members in the middle of the room, three of them with their weapons still cocked and pointed. The other four are heaving her unconscious patient into…

"What… is _that_?" She is not sure whether her predominant emotion is one of fear or one of fury.

"It's a transport cell," The voice belongs to Ian Faulkner, and it comes from the corner of the room.

Dr. Isles spins. "Ian. What have you done?"

"Don't worry, Doctor. It's not dead. It took forty nine tranquilizer darts fired from nine different guns in rapid succession, and as you can see, it did significant damage trying to hold us off…but we won in the end."

The doctor is livid. "You could have called me…You _should_ have-"

But Dr. Faulkner cuts her off, "I'm not sure that would have been a good idea…not since you two have gotten so…close."

Something cold and foreboding trickles down the back of the doctors neck as Ian steps up to her. "When were you going to tell me everything that freak of nature could do?" he asks, voice menacing.

The doctor is taken aback, "W-what?" she curses herself for the stutter.

"Susie Chang told me what she saw," he barks at her. "It was controlling you, wasn't it."

Maura turns back to the men as they shut the solid steel door of the cell. "She," she says, and her voice is shot through with fury. "_She_, Ian, she's a person with thoughts and feelings and memories and you cannot just ship her away. She is not a test tube experiment she is a woman…a _human._" She turns back to Ian, to implore him, but she sees nothing remotely accessible in his face. Only smug satisfaction…and a little bit of jealousy.

"It is too bad, Maura," he says, moving around her to tap the cage, "that the first thing you connect with is not human."

And that stings enough that she has no retort.

He smirks, "You have a file on her," he says and this is not a question. "I expect it on my desk, first thing on Monday."

The doctor frowns. "It's Wednesday," she says and his smirk gets wider.

"I have a delivery to make," he says, tapping the cell again.

"Don't do this," it's her last try. She tries to appeal to something good in him. anything. "Please. You are going to hurt her."

He stops at the door, and for a moment she thinks he is going to relent. But then he stalks off down the hall, without looking back.

…

Two days that might as well be years.

That is how long it takes for Maura to decide to act. She finds herself sitting at her desk staring at the picture of four year old Jane Rizzoli. She should be paying attention to the thirteen other patients she has on her rotation. She should be yelling at interns and forcing them to speak clearly when they diagnose patients.

Susie Chang appears at her door, and she has to knock several times before the doctor looks up.

"Rounds are finished, Dr. Isles," she says quietly, "But the Barton child could use some looking in on, I think."

Dr. Isles leans back in her seat, eyes back on the picture of the girl. "Thank you Dr. Chang," she says absently, and then as the woman begins to walk away. "Dr. Chang? Do you believe in the supernatural?"

The woman in front of her looks surprised. "…Is this a test?" she asks finally, and Dr. Isles sighs. "No. It is a question. I am asking if you believe in…the impossible."

Susie Chang looks at the doctor for a moment.  
"I believe that that woman who was here…is the little girl who died," She says simply, and she turns and walks away.

That is all the motivation that the doctor needs. She books her tickets that night.

* * *

…

She settles into a corner table at a café a couple blocks from the Rizzoli's house, wrapping her jacket around herself like it might make her invisible and ordering a cup of coffee before realizing that the layer of film that lies over the speckled Formica table probably will be on the surface of her coffee as well.

She shrugs, resolving that she just wants something to wrap her hands around while she thinks. And she wants to think sitting down. She is dead on her feet. The doctor glances around her and then reaches down to pull Jane's file out of her briefcase. She'd stolen it away with her, against the rules of the hospital and against her own unyielding sense of ethics. But something about watching them wheel her patient away in that glorified dog cage had made her do it. Ian would return from…wherever it was they were taking her, and when he looked for more information…for anything that she had uncovered without his knowledge. He would find nothing.

Dr. Isles looks down at the case file, now open on the table, working committing the information to memory. She feels a sort of glum disappointment in her stomach. She had arrived in Brooklyn, NY after a train ride, an ill-advised subway ride in the wrong direction, and finally a taxi and the Rizzoli's had barely given her the three seconds. Of course! She'd been so stupid. and now she is going to have to start the harrowing journey home again…empty handed.

Well, what had she expected anyway? That they would welcome her into their home and regale her with stories of their daughter, dead now for twenty three years? No. She had been stupid to come here and stupid to think that this place held any answers. She pulls the picture of the four year old out of the file, turning it over in her hands, thinking…

_…_

_"Are you Mrs. Rizzoli? Angela Rizzoli?" _

_"Depends on who's asking?" _

_"My name is Dr. Isles, I'm a doctor at Tufts Medical Center in Boston and I was wondering if I could bother you for just a couple minutes of your time." _

_"What is it? Is it one of my boys? Are they hurt? FRANK!" _

_"Oh, no…no, Mrs.-"_

_"Christ Angela, what are you yelling for?" _

_"This woman is here about one of the boys…Was Tommy in Boston the last time you heard from him?"_

_"Nah…Worcester…I think…Tommy's been hurt?" _

_"No! I mean…I can hardly conjecture about the physical health of a person I do not know but…" _

_"What? Conjec- does that mean he's injured?" _

_"Cut it with the Doctor talk will ya, lady? Is our son hurt or not?" _

_"Mr. & Mrs. Rizzoli! I do not know your son. I'm not here about him. I am here about your daughter…Jane." _

_…_

_"What is this…some kind of sick joke?" _

_"What? No…not at-"_

_"Let me tell you something, doctor, if you even are a doctor, you've got a lot of nerve coming here, first making us think our son is injured," _

_"I beg your pardon, I never-"_

_"And then telling us you want to talk about our __daughter?__ We don't have a daughter." _

_"Frank! …he didn't mean that, Janie…he just meant-"_

_"For Chrissake Angela, not in front of strangers. Look, you, I don't know who you are, but you stay away from me, and you stay away from my family. Got it?" _

_He hadn't given her a chance to answer. _

_…_

"You're the doctor that was at my house today," the voice breaks her out of her concentration, and she shoves the picture out of the way, turning around quickly to see a tall dark man heading towards her.

She knows at once who he must be although she keeps it to herself. Years of painful social interactions tell her to do this.

"Yes, I am" she holds out her hand. The man does not shake it.

"What do you want with my parents?" his manner speaks to one of authority, of someone who is used to having their way all the time. "Why do you wanna come around and bother my parents about something that happened over twenty years ago?"

The doctor looks down at the case file on the table, the image of four year old Jane Rizzoli flashing through her mind.

"I have…a patient," she says carefully. She does not like to lie, nor is she particularly good at it."Your sister's case might be helpful in…figuring out what is happening to her."

Francesco Rizzoli Junior pulls out the chair across from her and sits down. She stiffens a little bit, not only because this implies that the conversation is going to continue, but also because sitting down at someone's table without a proper invitation is extremely rude.

He glares at her, like he's sizing her up. She smooths her skirt.

"You're Francesco Junior," she says, because she believes that now, it is alright to know who he is.

He squints like he's looking at a bright light. "Frankie," he corrects her. She wishes she were back in Boston, back in her lab coat and handling patients, who, for the most part, could not contradict her.

"Frankie," she tries a smile, knowing that she's failing miserably. "My name is Dr. Isles,"

He raises an eyebrow, looking like his older sister who might be alive. The doctor feels something in her chest get tight.

"Doctor Isles," he repeats after a moment, "Your first name is Doctor?"

She frowns at him, recognizing his sarcasm but unable to access the levity in it, "My first name is Maura," she says, aware that her voice has gone cold. "I'm the Head of Pathology at Tufts Medical Center."

Both of Frankie's eyebrows shoot up this time. "Boston?" The doctor nods, and he peers at her as if really taking her in this time, "Long way to come to ask questions about a twenty three year old dead girl," he leans back in his chair still looking at her. His eyes are very like Jane's. She looks down at the table, "Besides. Jane didn't die from a disease. She died from a head injury." A spasm of pain crosses his face as he says this.  
Dr. Isles nods, "Yes, yes, I know. I…" but she trails off here, wondering how to continue without tipping too much of her hand. Surely it would not be wise to go around telling people she believes Jane Rizzoli to be alive.

She can't prove it and she doesn't believe in cover ups or conspiracy theories…or women with the ability to read thoughts and move things with their minds.

"Doctor Isles?" Frankie's voice shakes her free from her thoughts again. She looks at him and he's staring at her hard.

"I…My patient is very special." True, "And I think she might be in…danger." Also true. "Anything you can tell me about your sister…anything at all, would be so helpful."

He looks down at his hands, the thumb and index finger of his left hand picking at a scab on the back of his right. Finally, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wallet. From the billfold, he pulls a picture, which he hands her across the table.

Maura takes it to see a chubby baby, whom she can only assume is Frankie, sitting between the legs of a dimpled female toddler. Jane. Maura recognizes her immediately. Both are laughing at the camera.

"I don't really remember her, you know? Ma won't talk about her and Pop doesn't do anything but protect my Ma from people who wanna talk about it…" he trails off a bit confusedly, shaking his head. "I was just a baby when the crash happened."

The Doctor tries to find the appropriate thing to say in this situation. "I am sorry…for your loss. I'm sure she was a wonderful wom-child."

Frankie looks up at her sharply, and she manages to forestall a blush.

"Yeah…well…It doesn't hurt me, does it? I don't remember her."

"Well that is untrue, of course," Dr. Isles says quickly, glad to be on ground she recognizes."The repercussions of losing a sibling ripple forward for… _generations_. There are ample studies to support that, especially when one feels a…lack of closure…or guilt."

Her delivery is clumsy, unpracticed, but to her surprise she sees Frankie nod. "My parents never got closure," he says weakly.

"What do you mean?" The doctor sits forward quickly. "What do you mean they didn't get closure?"

The man in front of her runs a hand through his short dark hair. "She was so disfigured…" He glances up at her, and for the first time his eyes linger on the file on the table between them. Dr. Isles slides it towards herself automatically, immediately wishing she hadn't done so. Frankie's face goes hard. "After the accident," he continues, "you must have it in there. After the accident and the surgery that tried to save her…you couldn't tell her from anything. My Pop saw her…Ma never did…closed casket." He rolls his shoulders, letting go of some tension. "So. No closure."

Maura's mind is reeling. She leans back in her seat and tries to take it in. Closed casket…disfigurement…that left the possibility of…

"Is that helpful? To your patient?" His voice is sneering, angry, and although she cannot for the life of her explain why those are the emotions he's expressing, she understands that everything he has said has been deeply personal, supposedly of no interest to her.

"Not in the way you would imagine," she says, bending another lie into something she can stomach. "Do you…do you happen to know…" she casts around for something that a Doctor would want to know in connection to a patient, "Who her surgeon was?"

Frankie's eyes flicker a little. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah…I do."

She leans forward, waiting, and he licks his lips. "Is that what this is about? I thought it might not be a coincidence, you showing up like this. So close to what happened."

"Like what?" Maura's mouth has gone dry. "After what happened?"

"Jane's surgeon was Daniel Beckett." He looks at her like this should mean something to her.

And it does, though she is not immediately sure why. "Daniel…Beckett," she says slowly, and the name pulls at her. Like Jane.

"Yeah," Frankie looks at her, incredulous. "He was one of the Doctors that was identified in the wreckage."

"The wreckage," Dr. Isles says distractedly. "What wreckage?"

Frankie looks at her like she's got three heads. "What wreckage? It was your city…do Bostonians forget that easily?" He continues shaking his head, "Beckett's body was identified in the wreckage at that explosion on eleventh street. When that compound blew?" Frankie watches as recognition dawns on the doctor's face.

He nods. "Beckett's dead, Doctor."

* * *

…

It happens the next day on the train ride back to Boston. She is resting her eyes and trying to rest her brain, and it hits her so hard that she sits bolt upright in her chair, gasping.

It is pain. The stomach heave, mind numb, bone break kind of pain that surges from the back of her mind to the forefront and then out her limbs like electricity through a wire, immediate and uncontrollable.

She gasps, leaning forward, fighting the urge to be sick, and a man in the row across from her gets up and moves away.

All the better, let him go. She doesn't care because now hazy half feelings are bombarding all of her senses. It smells like concrete and damp towels. All she can see is grey.

She reaches out, and her hand grasps the back of the seat in front of her, cloth, stuffed and rough with over use, but her eyes are blind to her surroundings.

Again the pain rocks her, again the wave of nausea, and then…through a fog, like she's half in and half out of her own body, three words, in the hard deep voice of a man she doesn't know, and who is surely not talking to her.

_"Make. It. Move." _

Hard. Wild, like a horse that refuses to be broken, anger shoots through her body.

She is furious.

[NO]

"NO!"

The concrete in front of her is cracking.

Nothing can hold her.

.

She's breathing hard. "Ma'am?"

Dr. Isles rubs her head. "Jane."

"Jane?" The voice from overhead sounds puzzled, "Is that your name? Move back, give her some space. Jane?"

The doctor blinks, and the cabin of the train swims into view, as well as several concerned looking faces. Her hand is white knuckled on the seat in front of her.

"What?" Dr. Isles' head is pounding. She feels like she's run a marathon without the proper training or hydration.

"Are you alright?" The man closest to her is asking, "You shouted 'no', and then you started rocking and…well…sort of…vibrating…." The man trails off as some of the others nod.

The doctor feels herself blush deeply. She tries to gather herself. "I…No. I mean yes, I'm fine…I'm just…" She searches for an adjective that will not be a lie. "I am tired."

"You seemed to be having some kind of episode," says a woman over the seat in front of her. She is short and plump and has the most atrocious Boston accent that Maura has ever heard. "It was wicked intense," she finishes.

"I…I apologize, truly," Dr. Isles says, looking around at each of them, wishing they would all just disappear. "I'm…I've recently lost someone…quite close to me," The doctor waits, but this feels true, so she continues, "And every once in a while I…Well I don't know what comes over me."

All of the people around her look sympathetic, taking her loss for a death, and the doctor wonders briefly at her ability to become a person who deals in half truths. Who does not reveal everything and still gets what she desires.

Who believes in telekinesis.

"Well, we're twenty minutes out of Boston now," says the man to her left, and she notices he says Boston like Bah-stahn. She tries to smile.

"Thank you. Thank you. I'm sure I'll be fine…I'll be fine."

She manages to reassure them enough that they return to their seats, and she spends the last moments of her train ride wondering at what she has seen, marveling at Jane's ability to reach her even though they are far away.

_But did she __mean__ to reach me?_ _Someone is hurting her. Is she too scared to control it? _Maura runs a hand through her hair, lingering at the back of her skull. The pull had felt like a tie, attached to the back of her head, but the base of the brain is where base brain functions lie, breathing, blinking, swallowing, etc. When Jane had filled her it had felt like a blanket. Like holding hands.

_Like making love. _

The thought comes to her unbidden, and she ducks her head as her face flushes again. No. It hadn't felt like that. At least not like any sex she's ever encountered. She tries to put it from her mind.

The train slows to a stop and the doctor stands, feeling stiff and exhausted and…lonely.

The word for the emotion comes suddenly, and she feels tears follow almost immediately.

She is _lonely_ without Jane.

Without even thinking about it, her mouth moves over the woman's name, once, twice, and again. She sighs. She is more than lonely.

She misses Jane.

…

She wheels her bag into the terminal of the train station, and stops by a water fountain to put her ticket stubs in her briefcase and shrug into her jacket. Her mind is still full, and so she does not notice the stranger until he is directly in front of her.

"Dr. Isles? Doctor?"

She starts, looking up at the stranger. He is thin and dark with light brown eyes, and short hair.

"Can I help you?" She shifts on her feet wondering how fast she could run in the heels she has on.

"Special Agent Frost," he says, although he doesn't look a day over seventeen. "Your train was twenty minutes late out of New York, we'll have to hurry if we're going to make ours." He reaches for her bag, but she jerks it back out of his reach.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

He tilts his head, and she does not imagine the almost smile that plays on his lips, "No, ma'am, you don't. Dr. Faulkner has sent me to accompany you to his location."

Now the doctor takes a step back, "I see," at least the chill in her voice is still there when she needs it. "That's quite presumptuous, isn't it? I have no desire to see Dr. Faulkner." She moves to turn away from the young man, but he steps forward, his voice low.

"I am supposed to use any means necessary to bring you to him, Doctor," he says lowly, and his eyes look both, apologetic and determined, "He tells me," Frost hesitates, "he tells me you will come with me, if I tell you that she is sick."

And Maura's heart must show on her face, because the young man looks satisfied. "Is she?" she cannot help the question, and Frost looks startled at the desperation in her voice. "Is she sick, Special Agent Frost?"

He looks uncomfortable, "Just Frost…" he says quickly, "and I don't know, honestly…I'm not cleared high enough to see her.

The implications behind these words make the doctor shiver involuntarily. "Where is she? What has he done to her?"

And this time, when he speaks, Frost looks definitely apologetic. "I don't know, doctor." He looks at his watch, "but I do know we are going to miss the train that will take you to her, if we don't hurry. And once we are there, I assume you'll be able to see for yourself."

In truth, she is already convinced, but she holds out a little longer, making the man in front of her tap his foot impatiently.

"Alright," she says, stepping aside so that Frost can reach for her bag. "Yes, alright, let's go."  
He starts away towards the other end of the terminal and she has to walk quickly to keep up with him. Something inside of her is rejoicing, even if it is tempered by fear and anxiety.

"Frost…" she calls, and he half turns to her, "Where are we going?" She realizes she doesn't know.

The man looks at her, and then gestures up at the sign flashing for boarding. He pulls out a ticket and hands it to her.

"Washington," He says stepping forward to hand his ticket to the attendant.

"Washington DC."

* * *

**yay! mini hiatus and now back! **

**you guys rock i can't even tell you. although i still think some of you are reading with faces that look a little like grumpy cat. lol. **

**thank you for your reviews and your love. honestly. i don't know what i did to deserve you crazy wonderful humans.**

**three questions to answer from your PMs and reviews**

**1. yes. I am deliberately using the name Maura sparingly. espcially when she's describing herself, or rather, the third person narrator is describing her. i'm doing that on purpose. there IS a reason. **

**2. this is most like chronicle. have you guys ever seen chronicle? I realized that last night. **

**3. ALRIGHT I WILL WATCH DR. WHO JUST STOP EMAILING ME ALREADY!**

**and lastly. **

**don't freak out about Frost's early roll here. I love him, and you will too. **


	6. Six

The cell smells like concrete and wet towels. Deep cracks line all four of the walls, and he door is dented in several places.

Dr. Isles looks down through the observation window at Jane's limp form, curled on iself in the corner.

"You bastard," the words are out before she can censor them, and for once she doesn't care. She repeats them. "You miserable bastard, what have you done to her."

If Dr. Faulkner is surprised by her outburst, he does not show it. "It is much stronger than we previously estimated," he says calmly. "This is the third cell we've had it in. It seems to be holding, for the moment. If it were at full strength, it would have that door down in minutes. The last one was double cast and reinforced with six dead bolts. It took under five minutes to break that down…we're lucky it lost consciousness or-"

"SHE!" the doctor's outburst is loud enough, that Frost, who has accompanied her to the observation room, jumps a little.

Dr. Faulkner smiles, "I see that you have not lost any affection for it," he glances down into the cell. "You might be wondering why we are so high up. Why we have to look down on it from above."

Dr. Isles grits her teeth.

"Up this high, we've discovered, it cannot do more than crack this triple bonded safety glass. We can look at it with a modicum of safety, although, like I said, we do not know what would happen if it were to regain full strength. That's where you come in, Doctor."

Dr. Isles does not take her eyes off of Jane. "What do you want from me?"

Ian leers at her, his expression dark and jealous. "It listens to you. It trusts you. We need it to eat. We need it to preform tests, to stop damaging our equipment."

"We?" the doctor ignores the pronouns. For now.

"The Director and I. He's put me in charge of it, in charge of learning all we can about what it is made of." Dr. Faulkner comes to stand next to her, "That thing belongs to the United States Government now, Dr. Isles, and it is my duty to discover all I can about it."

"I see," Dr. Isles works hard to keep the fury clawing at her at bay, "and does you director know that you are mistreating your patient so horrendously?"

Ian's smile falters for a moment, though he is able to fix it immediately, "He is unimpressed with the level of cooperation it seems to be displaying. I was given an almost unlimited amount of resources. I am to deliver a product."

Dr. Isles cannot help but rankle at this. "She is _not_ a science experiment."

"It most certainly is," he counters immediately. You know as well as I do that we are not dealing with an extraterrestrial, doctor. Possibly this…thing…was once human, but it is clear that it is not anymore."

Dr. Isles puts her hand against the glass. _Jane, _she thinks desperately. _Jane. Can you hear me?_

Down below her, the body stirs.

It is enough. Dr. Isles turns to Ian, one mission in her head. Get to Jane.

"What is it you want from me, Ian?" She will play along. She will play along if it gets her to Jane.

His smile is wide. "I knew you would come around, Maura," he says, and he gestures her to the door. "You always do."

He turns away from her to face Frost, standing alert at the door.

"You," he barks and Frost moves forward at once.

"Yes, Sir?"

"What's your name?"

"Frost, Sir. Special Agent-"

"Are you cleared to deal with the monster?"

Fury hits Dr. Isles again, "she is _not_ a-" she begins, but Dr. Faulkner waves her away.

Frost stares between them, "Uh…no sir…I don't have a high enough level of-"

"You do now," Ian cuts the young man off again. "Come on."

And taking Doctor Isles firmly by the upper arm, he shepherds them both out of the room.

"What are you going to do, Ian?" She asks struggling to walk with his tugging grip on her arm.

He doesn't look at her. He keys in the code that will take them to the hall outside of Jane's holding cell. He licks his lips, all anticipation.

"I'm going to give it some incentive to act."

* * *

…

_The gun in the bad doctor's hands fires one two three times, kicking back on the last shot so that his arm jerks a little. Jane knows that last bullet will miss so she focuses her energy on the first two, tightening her fist so that they fall dead in the air like lead balloons. _

_One hand free she pulls down, and Maura drops to the ground as through forced. Jane winces as her doctor's knees hit the ground, but what are bruises to bullet wounds? _

_Nothing. _

_She whirls to face this man, this doctor who has held her captive, and her fury that he has aimed to hurt Maura is paramount. She puts out her hand, to end him, but her doctor is saying something. Is screaming with her hands out at him, and Jane turns, confused, not understanding the words, except for the one's she's been taught. "__**No**__! naI __**stop**__…__**STOP**__! __**She**__ oedn'ts snrdeutadn twah __**you**__ rea odgin. __**Stop**__! __**STOP**__!" _

_Jane looks back at the bad doctor and he is speaking too, eyes fixed on her. He's speaking to her, but his words are coming fast and muddled, and are underscored with such a rush of undiluted exhilaration that she cannot make any of them out. He pulls the gun around, and her momentary relief that it is no longer pointing at Maura returns to fury when he turns it on the young man in the uniform.  
Jane doesn't know this man. She knows he brought her doctor here, and she knows that when the bad doctor barked something at him, pointing furiously at Maura, he had shaken his head repeatedly, looking pale and shocked and scared. _

_The bad doctor is screaming at her, and she squints trying to make it out. "Nwo, __**you**__ wnat ot lpya? __**Jane**__? __**You**__ wnat ot lpya nwo? teL's __**see**__ fi __**you**__ ylno rcae boaut __**your**__ siprcoue __**doctor,**__ lshal __**we**__?"_

_He pulls the trigger, and Jane's fury and Maura's scream of "NO" make her act again, panting at the strain. She stops one, two, three, bullets aimed at the man, and the exertion it takes brings her to her knees. She gasps for breath. No one will die for her again. _

_Maura is crying. _

_Maura is terrified._

_It is her doctor's strength and fear flowing in her body that keeps Jane from blacking out. Ian says something, and through her exhaustion and her nausea, she hears Maura in her head. She hears her louder and more clearly than the half thoughts she'd been grasping at during their last time together. _

_Jane has not eaten since he took her. She has had only the water she knows that she needs. She'd fought hard to not be taken, and they'd taken her anyway, and once here, there was no way to strengthen herself, not without food. Not without Maura. _

_She is weak and tired and her head is pounding and buzzing with what she recognizes as the precursor to unconsciousness. But then Maura is with her, in her head. And Jane knows she'd do anything. _

_Maura speaks to her, panicked, screaming, and direct. The message pushes the brunette to her feet. She takes the last of anything inside of her. She listens. And Maura repeats herself, the request rolling around in Jane's head like a trumpet call. Desperate. _

_[Jane. Save us.]_

_And Jane calls on everything she has left. She pushes her arms out and lights pop and crackle behind her eyes like fireworks, but she can feel the walls give in and the door push out and when the bad doctor fires again, twice, she pulls Maura out of the way and she throws him against the wall. She slams him hard. Again. Again. Again. _

_Until her hands start to shake, and Maura is pulling at her, the words taking a moment to form and connect in her brain. _

_"omceno…cmoeon…" _

_"Jane! Come ON!" _

_She drops him to the floor. She makes sure he does not move. _

_And then she runs._

* * *

_…_

The doctor looks over her shoulder at the woman sprawled in the back seat, sleeping hard. Or she's unconscious. The doctor cannot tell.

"They are going to be looking for us," she says quietly. "They are probably already looking for us," she spins around in her seat and looks at Frost. He is pale and wide eyed, gripping the steering wheel with tight fists. He doesn't answer. She wonders if he can hear the shrill scream of the alarm bell still rattling around in her brain.

The car zooms through the night, headlights off. She doesn't ask where they are going.

Dr. Isles leans towards him slightly, "Special Agent Frost?"

He isn't blinking. He opens his mouth a couple of times like a fish.

"Frost?"

"Bastard tried to _shoot_ me!" he bursts out finally. "He tried to shoot me…to get that thing…To get it…" He glances at Jane in the rearview mirror, and then catches the doctor's eye. He swallows. "To-to-to get _her,_" he corrects himself, "to get her to act." He pries one hand off of the wheel to run over his upper lip. "And she stopped the bullet," he continues after a moment, as though verbalizing what has happened will make it more believable, or slow it down in his memory enough to process.

"She stopped the bullet. And the next one, _and _the one after that."

Dr. Isles nods, "Yes," she says quietly, glancing back as Jane stirs and grumbles. "She stopped eight bullets, and three of them were meant for you." She does not say that Jane also cracked the concrete and steel of all four walls of her cell, or blasted the reinforced door off its hinges. She does not recount how she'd slammed Dr. Ian Faulkner against the cell wall repeatedly, her face a dangerous mask of fury and fear.

She doesn't comment on how they'd all ended up here, together in the car, fleeing.

Frost already knows all of that. He was there.

He glances at her now, like the weight of his decision to run with them is just beginning to hit him. "He was going to kill you too." He means Dr. Faulkner. Frost looks a little sick. "He asked me to bring you there so that he could…"

But the doctor stops him with a wave of her hand, "the look on your face when he drew his weapon was enough to convince me that you had no prior knowledge of his intentions."

Frost looks a little reassured, but not completely. "And I do not believe he ever intended to kill, or even wound anybody. He simply wanted to make Jane preform, and it seemed she would not when only her own safety was in peril."

Frost is silent for a moment, considering this. "Well she acted, alright," He glances in the rearview mirror at her. "She fucking blew that room apart…_literally._" He swallows again, looking afraid. "Do you think Dr. Faulkner is alright?"

Dr. Isles shrugs, "I don't care."

Frost looks at her sharply, and then his eyes dart back to the rearview mirror. "Is she okay, do you think?"

Dr. Isles sighs, worried. "I don't know. I do not know much more about her than you do, at this point." She thinks back to the first time Jane had done significant damage.

"I think it weakens her," she says after a moment. "I think striking displays of power like that…I don't think she can sustain them for long periods of time. And she had to, in order to get us out of there."

Frost glances in the mirror and then looks at the doctor. They both shiver a little and the Doctor wonders if Frost is remembering the way Jane had blown out every door in their path, the alarm bells shrieking above them as they ran. She wonders if he'd looked behind them the way she had, the way she realized that anyone dumb enough to appear in the hall behind them was knocked off their feet immediately, as though Jane was rumbling an earthquake through the building in their wake. "Us," Frost repeats her word quietly. He looks confused. "She…She could have just left me there. She doesn't know me from any of the other uniforms and suits that have been holding her hostage. Why did she save me?"

The doctor smiles, "because you didn't shoot me. Ian ordered you to and you didn't."

"Of course I didn't," he sounds incensed. "I wouldn't have even if he had-"

"I know," Dr. Isles cuts him off. "And so does she." He looks at her, and she offers him what she can of a smile. "You would have been in danger, had you stayed."

He doesn't answer.

They drive in silence for a while, each lost in thought. The doctor cannot sort her feelings. She cannot stop looking back at the sleeping form in the back seat. She'd started the car without a key, pointing as they'd run through the parking garage, and the doctor remembers the gasp of effort it had drawn from Jane to do it. The way she had stumbled. She remembers the way that Jane had crumbled in her arms after blowing the front security gate off its hinges, her hands shaking, skin pale and clammy, blood dripping down her face from her nose, eyes already closing.

"I can pull over if you want to get in back with her…make sure she's okay?"

Frost's voice makes her jump. She's half turned in her seat, watching Jane sleep.

"What? No…no, it's alright, thank you…I'm just worried about her."

Frost nods. "That nose bleed she had at the end…that was pretty bad."

The doctor nods, "Over exertion, I think…I don't know…" She runs a hand through her hair. If she is honest with herself, she does want to climb in back with Jane, just to reassure herself that the woman is still breathing.

But if she's going to be honest about that, she has to be honest about something else too. She's afraid to touch Jane when she is not conscious.

"We should stop somewhere," she says after a moment of contemplation. "For the night, I mean. We can't keep driving aimlessly."

Although neither one of them has mentioned it, the doctor is aware that when Frost navigated the car onto this road almost three hours earlier, he picked a direction that carried them west, away from Washington DC, yes…but also away from Boston.

"It's not aimless," he says, and the doctor waits, but he doesn't elaborate. He looks at the clock on the dashboard glowing 10:45pm. "But you're right. We won't make it tonight." He glances at her, sizing her up, but Dr. Isles does not ask him where it is they are going. He relaxes a bit.

"There was a sign back there for a Motel 6 at the exit coming up. I could pull us in there."

"I've never been in a motel before," the doctor says, trying at conversation, "How exactly is it different from a hotel."

The look Frost gives her is a little incredulous, a little amused. For the first time, his eyes slide over her designer dress, the pumps discarded on the floor of the passenger side.

He lets out a breath, his look of amusement starting to win out over other emotions.

"I feel like maybe that's something that you're going to have to see for yourself."

…

[We should let him go on his way. If he wants] Dr. Isles raises an eyebrow at the feeling of nervousness that accompanies this new message.

They are in the tiny bathroom of the dingy motel, Jane in the bathtub, knees pulled up to her chest, while the doctor sees about the bruises and cuts along her shoulder blades. She does not ask how they occurred because she knows that half of the answer will be images, and she does not think she could bear it. She pushes the long dark hair out of the way, and there is something about touching this woman that makes her feel full and satisfied. Like she was missing things and now all of it has snapped into place.

"You don't trust Frost?" She says, making sure to keep her voice low.

Jane shrugs, but the doctor hears no. [He is afraid of me]

Dr. Isles runs the washcloth over the bare back of the woman in front of her, trying to focus on the task and not the way the shoulders shiver and tense under her hands. "I'm sorry if I'm hurting you," she says quietly.

The gentleness of the brunette's response makes her sigh.

[you're not]

The doctor tries not to get distracted by the way the feeling lingers. The way she wants to press her hands flat against Jane's back and let herself get lost. She clears her throat. "Yes," she says, trying to pick up the conversation where they'd left off. "Frost is afraid of you…but he barely knows you. And what he's seen of what you can do is…well…what you did back there, Jane, it was…" For a moment Maura sees the concrete cracking under her feet, sees Ian thrown up, high against the glass of the observation deck.

[I frightened you, too] the sadness shakes the doctor out of her memory.

She hesitates, but realizes that there's no sense in trying to hide her feelings. She offers them up, and she can feel Jane sifting through them as she talks. The sensation is almost like having an itch that she cannot scratch.

"I was scared, yes," she says, and Jane glances back at her for a moment, and then rests her head on her knees. The doctor continues. "I was frightened that you would hurt yourself, getting us out of there. I was frightened that if we didn't escape, they would hurt you." She looks down at the raw red abrasions under her hands. She sighs. "That they would hurt you more."

[Ian Faulkner does not want me dead]

The doctor nods, trying to think of something to say other than, _Ian is probably dead himself._

"I know. You are much too valuable to him."

The response she gets to this is such a sudden pang of sadness that she drops the washcloth. For a moment, images flip book through her mind, like Jane is trying to decide what she wants to convey. Like…the doctor catches her breath, like Jane is stuttering.

[I…I am…I belong to the government now…like…property] the sting of understanding…hands closing around an inanimate object.

"No!" and the doctor leans forward to turn Jane's head so that they are looking into each other's eyes. "No. Listen to me, Jane. Or…Listen to what I'm thinking, okay? You don't belong to anyone. You are not property. I will never treat you like property. You are…" but she trails off, unable to finish that sentence.

Jane stares back at her, the longing behind her next question evident in her face and in the sorrow that delivers the idea to the doctor's mind.

[What _am_ I, Doctor?]

Dr. Isles looks into deep, sad brown eyes. She'd been hoping Jane could answer that question for her.

"You're a woman who can do...very extraordinary things."

That's not what Jane meant. She feels the dissatisfaction and the irritation quickly. Just below the surface. The question comes again. Pushed harder, like she might not have understood.

[But _what_ am I? How did I get like this?]

The doctor sighs. She thinks of the Rizzolis, living in Brooklyn, believing that their child has died. "I don't know, Jane. But we are going to find out."

She is going to say more, but a gentle knock comes from the hall outside the bathroom.

"Uh, Doctor Isles?" There is a pause "Jane?"

The two women exchange a surprised glance. "Yes?" Maura calls back.

"Food is here."

Jane stands at once and the doctor feels the brunette's hunger, like a sister to her own growling stomach. "Alright, thank you, we'll be right out." she turns away as Jane wraps a towel around herself. Something occurs to her.

"You understand him," she says peeking to make sure it is safe before turning the entire way around. "You understood he was telling us dinner is here. Did you read his thoughts?"

It takes Jane a moment to understand the question; she tilts her head like she's heard something odd.

Maura tries to simplify her idea enough to turn it into a picture. "How did you understand what he was telling us?"

Understanding dawns on the angular features and immediately the doctor has an image of herself, leaning across the table in the observation room back in Boston.

She's holding a large index card and pointing at the picture on it, which is of a pizza. "Food," she says slowly.

The doctor shakes her head as the image fades a little, and Jane looks at her. "food," she says, clearly. Parroting the memory.

Dr. Isles smiles widely. "You were paying attention! Can you try another word? Do you remember any of the others?"

Jane quirks an eyebrow at her, clearly half happy that she's been understood, and half annoyed that the doctor seems to be patronizing her.

She smirks as she reaches for the door, and Maura can feel the smugness before the brunette opens her mouth.

"No," she says firmly.

Maura laughs.

…

The food does indeed turn out to be pizza. Jane eats three slices like they are going to disappear and then picks up a fourth slice, looking up at the doctor.

"Go ahead," she says, and then, when the brunette seems to hesitate more, she turns to Frost.

"Jane wants to know if you're going to eat more pizza."

Frost stares at her and when he responds, it is not to answer your question. "How do you know what it-she," he fixes quickly, hands up, "how do you know what she wants?"

The doctor turns to Jane, "Can you show him?"

Jane rolls her shoulders and the doctor smiles, turning back to Frost, watching has his hand goes unconsciously to the back of his head. She doesn't know what Jane does, but his eyes go wide and he jumps to his feet.

"Holy SHIT!" He yelps.

Dr. Isles laughs and turns to Jane, trying to ask what she's done without speaking.

The response is immediate, jovial and round, like giggling.

[His real name is Barold] she pushes the image of a third grader, dark skin and Frost's light eyes, writing his name on a black board that probably no longer exists.

The doctor is caught off guard at the feeling of someone else's memory in her head. The way it sits in her brain like a book out of order. A memory, yes…but not one that can be catalogued alongside her own.

Frost is still stuttering. "How…does she….how did you? Am I brainwashed now? Am I going to be abducted? Holy shit!"

"Barold," the doctor says without thinking, "please stop swearing."

He gapes at her. "how did you…" his eyes flit to Jane, who is smirking. "Oh, hel- I mean…God dam- _Jesus. _What in the crap are you?"

She cannot understand his words, but there is no missing the confusion or the bite of fear behind his words.

Jane growls, low, and the doctor feels her distrust before the sentence forms. [He's jumpy]

But Dr. Isles puts her hands out. "Be nice, Jane," she says, and Jane sits back, looking sulky. She chews on the end of her pizza slice, glowering.

"How does she do that?" Frost's voice is still high.

The Doctor shrugs, "I don't know."

"Does she know?"

"Ask her. She's not mentally disabled, she just doesn't understand language." Frost looks perplexed and the doctor gestures around the room. "tell her what you want to tell her…with your…thoughts." She says, and Frost looks at her like she's crazy, but his eyes shift to Jane, and he furrows his brow.

A moment of silence and then Jane doubles over laughing.

Frost's eyebrows shoot up, but his surprised expression changes to one of tentative amusement.

"what happened?" The doctor asks both of them.

Frost shakes his head, "I tried to say hello…think I went a little overboard," he says, and he sits down on one of the double beds, chuckling a little.

Maura pushes herself back against the headboard, still smiling, and she calls Jane to her without thinking about it.

The brunette comes immediately, stopping inches from her, understanding that her doctor might be nervous about touching.

"Is it safe?" Maura murmurs, and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Frost turn away, like he wants to give them privacy.

Jane tilts her head. [I don't know]

This makes the doctor wonder. "Why don't you know, though? You've been…like this…for a while. Right?"

A wave of sadness. [Yes, but He always told me what I could do. He was always in control of me] she feels controlling, and she feels He like it is important. [He could do these things] she pushes through a memory of her own. A tall dark man hands raised as a building crumbles in front of him, and Maura understands that the man is _making_ it happen. [I was never that powerful…or…he told me I was not]

"You are now," Maura says quietly.

Jane closes her eyes. [yes]

"Who is he?"

She doesn't answer for a moment. And then, [He took care of me] protection. Like a blanket. Maura frowns.

"Where is he now?"

Grief. a burst of it. It makes Maura gasp a little.

[dead]

"I'm sorry," her hand is in Jane's without thought. The connection between them seems to double. It spreads gently, like an ache, up her arm and through her body. "You cared about him very much." She can tell.

[He was everything] final. The conversation is done.

she's tired. The doctor can feel the exhaustion tugging at her, secondary but fierce.

"You should sleep," she says, but when Jane starts to move from the bed, something makes the doctor hold her back. "No…stay. We can share this bed."

The trepidation comes quickly. [what if I pull you in?] nervous and faltering.

Maura shrugs, "I don't care."

Jane is doubtful, Maura can feel it in her mind and see it in the brunettes face. she tries to think convincing.

"Honestly, I don't, Jane. I want to know if you have a nightmare," and nothing has ever been more of the truth, except for maybe what she says next. "I want to be there for you."

Jane looks at her steadily for a moment. And then she pulls at the comforter at the bottom of the bed. She pulls it up and wraps herself inside it, like a cocoon.

Maura watches, amused. "What are you doing?"

Jane pushes a harrumph. [obvious isn't it] she's fading already, settling down next to Maura. [when we touch its bigger. Less touch, less feel.]

The doctor thought that was just obvious to her. "You feel it too," she says, settling down herself, pressing a little closer to the bundle of blankets beside her. "Does that happen with everyone?"

She closes her eyes. There is silence, and Maura thinks that Jane has fallen asleep, until the answer is there. Spoken out loud from between the blankets. three words that Jane knows, and she reaches her long fingers out and touches one to Maura's jaw.

It is immediate and wonderful. Comforting, like it's always been this way.

"No," Jane speaks, her voice raspy around the words, tentative and hesitant. "No everyone," she says.

"You."


	7. Seven

Frost has a harder time communicating with Jane than the doctor does. She comes out of the tiny bathroom of the motel, toweling her hair, to find them both sitting crosslegged on one of the double beds, face to face, staring at each other.

"What are you doing?"

Frost doesn't look at her. Neither does Jane.

"Trying to ask her something," Frost replies between gritted teeth.

Jane glances at the doctor, and her face breaks into a smirk for half a second.

[He's been trying to ask me if I can fly for about ten minutes now]

Dr. Isles laughs, reaching out to swat at Jane's shoulder, "For heaven's sake, stop torturing the poor man," she says, still chuckling.

Frost looks confused. "Doc?"

Jane laughs, rolling away. "She's understood your flying question about ten minutes ago, Barold," she says stepping back and out of the way as Frost jumps to his feet, looking mildly outraged

"What?" he sputters, "You mean I've been sitting here picturing airplanes and birds and...and...superman! For no reason at all?"

Jane grins, her eyes sparkling. She nods, having understood and the doctor laughs again, as Frost looks scandalized.

"It would appear so," Dr. Isles says, and she is about to say more, but Jane beats her to it. Although she can feel the sentiment and the bite behind the joke, she also understands that Jane is aiming it at Frost.

[I am not stupid]

Jane growls out loud, although it is not so much menacing as it is to push her point across. The doctor is glad that she seems to be picking up some verbal cues.

"Nah," Frost says holding his hands out to her, "I know you're not Jane." He looks genuinely sorry. "I know you're not stupid. I'm sorry."

He seems sincere, the doctor thinks, and Jane must think so too, because she nods once, and turns away, moving past Maura to take her turn in the bathroom.

She doesn't touch the doctor as she passes, but Dr. Isles feels a kind of warmth spread through her as Jane moves by. It's an inside out type of hug, like it's coming from within.

[Alright?]

Maura is so caught up in the sensation that she almost misses the question buried inside.

"Yes," she nods, still not sure she could accurately convey her thoughts if she didn't also say them allowed. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

The feeling lessens, but does not vanish as Jane disappears behind the bathroom door.

Maura smiles, turning to see Frost scrutinizing her.

"What are your powers Dr. Isles?" He asks as the water in the shower turns on "How come you can speak, and she can't? Are you like...her handler? Did you both come from the handler? Were you in the same compound?" He looks up at her, and his face goes pale at her expression.

"I'm sorry," he falters, "that was rude of me, I should have-"

"No!" she cuts him off, shaking her head vigorously. "No...I am not offended...I just..I don't possess any of the abilities that Jane has." she stops, thinking hard and she can feel Jane at the back of her mind, sensing her unease.

[Alright?]

She nods absently, sending something reassuring.

"I...I don't possess any abilities at all...not in the supernatural sense. I'd never met Jane before she appeared in my hospital."

Frost is staring at her, clearly trying to decide if she is lying. She frowns, "why would you think that?"

He shrugs, "You're just so in sync. Like...you know how she's feeling all the time. And she knows all about you." Frost hesitates, deciding. "And last night...I swear you were having the same dream. At the same time."

The doctor nods. "Yes...that's likely because I was touching her. But," she looks at the young man, "you've felt that too...when you touch her. You helped her out of the car yesterday. Didn't you feel it?"

Frost looks at her, "I didn't feel anything."

Maura swallows hard as the conversation from last night comes back to her.

_no everyone. you_

"And you can't" she casts around for something clinical but then just decides to say it. "You can't feel her now?"

He shakes his head, watching her, "Sometimes she's in my head. Like a walkie talkie without words, and I just...know what she wants to say...you know?"

Yes. Dr. Isles knows.

"Then she's gone. It's just me again. That's not how it is for you?"

The doctor thinks of the episode on the train, the way her stomach had heaved with nausea, and she had smelled Jane's cell. Hundreds of miles away.

And even now, she can feel the spray of the shower, like a warm rain that she's caught in on the back of her mind. More than a memory.

"No." she says quietly. "That's not how it is for me at all."

* * *

...

There are three police cars in the parking lot. Frost spots them as they check out, two officers circling the stolen car with their hands on their guns.

"How did they find us?" the doctor hisses as they head towards the back of the building and the back exit. She takes Jane's hand, more for comfort than to keep the woman close to her. "How did they find us."

Jane stops walking abruptly. She closes her eyes.

"Jane?"

Frost looks back at them, his foot frozen comically in mid air. "problem?"

Maura runs her hand up the brunette's shoulder. "Jane?"

the response is quick and immediate, and Jane shudders a little, already tired.

[phone. it's your phone. and Frost's]

And the young special agent must get the same message from Jane, because he swears and pulls his iphone out of his pocket as the doctor pulls out her blackberry like it's a rotting piece of meat.

"Damnit," He says lowly. "What a rookie move...here, give me that." He takes her phone and flips it over, pulling out the battery pack. "Damnit. What do we do?"

the doctor needs to think. Jane stands next to her, and and Dr. Isles feels comforted just by having her there. Something occurs to her.

"Where were you taking us?" She asks Frost, trying to convey the question to Jane at the same time. Frost looks confused and a little panic. The doctor wills him to keep it together.

"What?"

"Where were we going, before we stopped here. You said that our driving was not aimless."

He's having trouble focusing, she can tell he's never been in this type of situation before and that he's having trouble. He looks up at them, and then back down at the gutted phones in his hand.

Jane moves forward, towards Frost. Slowly, she puts her hand on his shoulder, and he looks at her.

Dr. Isles doesn't know what Jane says to him or what feelings she pushes him, but his face seems to relax and then harden, like the answers to his questions have been answered.

"We need to get to Champaign," he says lowly.

"Illinois?" the doctor asks, and Frost nods.

[how far?] Jane is working to follow their conversation with a furrowed brow, and both of the others turn to look at her.

"A Day," Frost runs his hand over his chin. "If we drive straight through."

"Can you tell us why, Barold?"

"There's someone there I think can help us..."

The doctor waits, but he doesn't say anything else. Jane moves closer to Maura again, and their shoulders brush.

[They're coming.] a flurry of fear masked by such a wave of protection that for a moment, Dr. Isles feels lightheaded.

"We need to get out of here," Frost hisses, and they move further into the back hallway.

"We don't have a car. And we don't have a lot of money."

"We have an incredible hulk," he shoots back, and Jane looks at Maura, confused.

The doctor shakes her head, "She's not just raw muscle, Frost...It hurts her. to do it."

Jane rankles a little at this. [It does not hurt.]

"You can't just go around stealing us cars and knocking doors off their hinges," Maura says quietly, and when she reaches out to touch the brunette, the other woman leans towards her.

"Okay," Frost says, looking between them, "Okay...they already know we're here, right? So we stay just a little longer. We empty our accounts. we buy what we need and we get out."

Maura cocks her head. less than a week ago she was sitting in her office in the hospital with nothing more important to do than yell at interns and teach EMTs about clarity of language. Now she is in the middle of Virginia with a Special Agent and a woman with supernatural powers that she still has trouble believing in. She runs a hand through her hair.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

[I'll protect you] earnest and low and fierce. And then to both of them. [I'll protect you both]

Frost nods again, and his face is set. He looks at Maura, waiting.

She grips Jane's arm tight, and she nods at Frost. "I know," that's what she's afraid of. Jane protecting her, no matter what. "I know you will, Jane." She takes a deep breath. She must be crazy

"Okay. What's the plan?"

* * *

...

They empty their checking accounts. the doctor has fourteen thousand dollars and Frost adds another six.

they pay seven thousand dollars for a dark grey mini van at Hal's Used Cars on the out skirts of town.

They stop at a wal-mart for new clothes and shoes and food.

The doctor pushes the clothes around on the rack, frowning. There have been more firsts for her in the past four hours than ever before in her life. All the the clothes feel rough and scratchy under her hands. She fingers a sweater that costs eleven dollars and can't help but wrinkle her nose.

[you're used to nicer things.]

the doctor feels Jane behind her before the little jab sinks in.

"Yes," she says quietly, aware that no one else can hear Jane the way she can.

A hint of sadness. Of guilt. [you wish you had your life back] Jane disappears from her for half of a second, just to prove a point. The loss feels cavernous. [you want the life you have before me]

Maura spins, surprised to find the brunette so close behind her, but also not surprised. She takes Jane in arms quickly. And her forehead is against the angular chin and she knows that she would rather be on the run in eleven dollar sweaters, with this woman, than anywhere else on the planet.

"Jane...I"

but the brunette shushes her. She pulls back and looks into her eyes. She opens her mouth, focusing hard. "I know," she says, her words slow and deliberate.

"I know."

.

They drive and drive and drive, and the hours tick by.

Sometimes Maura drives and sometimes Frost drives. When Maura is at the wheel, Jane teases frost by pulling the cheese doodles out of his hand when he tries to eat them. She makes them zoom around his head, and he thinks of different shapes for her to form them into.

"You're fucki-" he catches himself. "crazy. You're crazy amazing, Jane. Do you know that?"

Jane grunts and with a flick of her wrist she bounces a cheeto off his forehead.

Maura laughs.

When Frost drives, Maura sits in the back with Jane and tries to teach her new words.

"You're in the car."

Jane rolls her eyes. "The car is..." she pushes sleeping.

the doctor chuckles, "boring. That's boring."

Jane leans forward, and Maura feels her own breathing hitch. "You are" she pushes smiles and laughter and something warm and full in the chest. Safety.

"happy," Maura fills in, realizing as she says it that it is true. She is quite happy. Frost glances at them in the rearview mirror, smirking.

But Jane shakes her head. "no. big." she pushes the feeling again, hard enough that Maura has to bite back a little moan. It feels good.

It feels right.

She knows that word. She knows what Jane is saying. But she shakes her head, and then nods. A little confused.

"Happy," she says again, pulling back a little. "That's happy."

Jane shakes her head, but she doesn't push it again. She looks a little saddened. "Happy" she repeats. "Happy." and in her mind, the doctor hears _just._ She wants to reach out for Jane. She wants to hold onto her hand and tell her, _yes yes I love you. _But if Jane could feel the love and the truth behind that statement, then she would almost definitely feel the fear.

And Dr. Maura Isles, is terribly afraid.

They drive and drive. Jane is fascinated by the radio, and she tunes the station from the back seat, eyes wide and enthralled.

"Ing. Ing!" she says happily, and Frost chuckles, reaching to turn up a song.

"You didn't have singing where you come from Jane?" He rocks his shoulders back and forth, "This is my Jam!" he cries, dancing in his seat. "_Billie Jean is not my lovah. She's just a girl who claims that I am the one..." _

Jane frowns, confusedly, looking at Maura. [it is powerful] and it is a question and a statement.

Maura nods, "Music is one of the ties that keeps a culture together," she says, but Jane is watching Frost pop and lock while he drives.

She rolls her shoulders a little, and Maura feels longing. "Want," Jane says quietly, and Frosts eyes flick to her in the mirror.

"Don't worry, Mama," he says quietly "I will teach you."

Jane shakes her head, disgruntled, and Maura knows what's coming before it does. "No," she says firmly to Frost. "Want _good_." She smirks.

Frost pretends to look wounded.

Maura doesn't remember when she's laughed like this.

...

* * *

They arrive in the middle of the night, Jane sprawled out asleep in the back seat, Maura dozing in the front. Frost shakes her awake gently.

"We're here."

The doctor looks out the window to see nothing but black, no streetlights, nothing.

"Where is here?"

"Outside of Champaign, Illinois. I called from a payphone at the last rest stop. He's expecting us." Frost turns the lights out and the world is as dark as pitch.

"Who, Frost?" Dr. Isles has about had it with the secrecy. "_Who's_ expecting us?"

As if in answer to her question, there is the sharp wrap of knuckles on the drivers side window.

Maura screams, and Jane wakes with a growl, her hand shooting out towards Maura. Like protection.

But Frost rolls down the window, and his teeth shine bright in the tiny flashlight that shines into the car, ghosting over Maura, and then into the back seat where Jane sits, waiting.

"Frost. You're late." the voice is a little grumpy. Deep and rough. Maura can just make out gray hair and the stubble of a beard in the secondary glare of the flashlight.

"Korsak," Frost says, sticking his hand out the window. "Good to see you."


	8. Eight

_"They've disappeared." _

_"Impossible." _

_"The last activity on their cellphones, on any of their bank cards or ATM cards was at a bank on the outskirts of Manassas. Dr. Isles emptied her checking account. So did Special Agent Frost. Their phones haven't been switched on since two days ago. They're not trackable." _

_"They must have spotted your men when you sent them." _

_"The clerk at the desk advised my officers they'd already checked out...They're going somewhere." _

_Ian rubs his chin, thinking. He does not share his fears with the officer in front of him. He does not say that he is scared for Dr. Isles safety, at the hands of the beast that has escaped. He definitely does not say he fears for everyone in it's path. And he certainly does not say that he fears for himself, fears the wrath of the Director when he is told that there is no sign of his property anywhere. _

_What he says is "People do not simply drop out of existence." _

_What he says is, "find them, or it's your job first, and then your head." _

_What he says is, _

_"Find them. I do not care what you have to do." _

* * *

_..._

Vincent Korsak lives in an old, leaning ranch house. As she gets out of the car, the doctor can see nothing but farmland and fields, stretching on all sides. Korsak's house is shielded from the main road by seven large trees that wave lazily in the darkness, like shadowy, menacing giants.

She reaches for Jane, calmed when the woman is right there, under her hands.

[I've got you] protective and gentle. Jane does not take her eyes of Korsak, but he only has eyes for Frost.

"It's good to see you, son," he says, "I have to admit, I was surprised when you called."

He stumps up the four steps of the front porch, and holds the swinging screen door open for all three of them, his eyes lingering curiously on Dr. Isles and Jane. "I figured you must be in some kind of trouble," he says, shutting the door behind him and flicking the light switch.

Three bare hanging bulbs illuminate a spare living room and dining room, a worn old sofa, a wooden kitchen table and three chairs. A TV that looks like it was outdated in the 1980s. A tiny wiry haired dog thumps its tail once on the hard wood floor.

Maura can feel Jane taking in the surroundings too, but when Korsak moves to sit in one of the dining room chairs, she moves as well, positioning herself between him and the doctor.

"We're not in trouble," Frost begins, and then immediately he back tracks. "Well, not in the way you think."

Korsak motions that they should sit, and The doctor does, and then after a look at Jane, Frost sits too. Dr. Isles can feel Korsak's eyes on her. She shifts uncomfortably, and Jane moves closer to her.

"Well," Korsak speaks into the silence. "Someone tell me why you're here then. And with two women who look like they've never been out of the city in their lives."

Frost leans forward across the table, pointing to Jane and then the Dr. Isles. "This is Jane, and this is Dr. Maura Isles. She works," he pauses, glancing at her, "worked...at Tufts Medical Center in the Pathology department."

"I was the head of Department," Dr. Isles cannot help but say it, even as she realizes that if she were to return to the hospital now, she would be...what, arrested?

Jane squeezes her arm, understanding.

"Okay," Korsak looks between them and then back at Frost. "So you've brought me a doctor and...what?" He looks at Jane and she looks back, sizing him up.

Frost hesitates, "She's one of Daniel Beckett's, Korsak. At least, I think she must be," he says, and the man's eyes go wide. He jerks his head around to look at Frost.

"It can't be," he says quickly, "They burned in the explosion. It was ordered that they all get destroyed."

Frost shakes his head, "Not Jane," He says and he looks at the brunette.

Jane looks at him and then glances at Maura. [he wants me to lift something] it's a question masked as a statement. Jane is asking permission.

Maura nods once, and Jane looks around the room, finally settling for the coffee table in front of the beat up couch. She curls a finger, and it is not lost on Dr. Isles that it is taking her less and less physical effort to move things around.

The coffee table jumps into the air, rotates once and settles back down.

Jane turns to look at Korsak, waiting, and for a moment, there a silence as black as the night around the little house.

And then Korsak staggers backwards, knocking over his chair as he stands, eyes wide, and Jane looks after him, wary.

"Invictu," He says, his voice hoarse, pointing at the brunette's heart, like and accusation. "Impossible..." He points at her and Jane narrows her eyes at his tone. She steps carefully between him and Maura, and her hands tighten slowly into fists.

The doctor frowns. "Invictu?" she says slowly. "From invictum? Like invincible?"

She looks at Frost, who is looking at Korsak, hands out.  
"Hey. Vince," he says quickly, hands out, "calm down...She's not-"

But Korsak cuts him off again. "You don't know what she's capable of," He's backing up away from her, "You haven't seen all the things she can do... You don't-"

Jane growls, and Korsak falls silent, afraid.

"Hey," and now it is the doctor who steps in front of Jane. She turns and looks her in the eyes. "Hey, it's alright. It's going to be alright."

[He's afraid of me]

Frost shakes his head. He has heard to. "I was afraid of you, Jane," he says quietly, "remember? I was afraid of what you could do...but I know you now, and I'm not. See?"

Jane is unsure. she wants the doctor to stay close. She does not want to be there.

Dr. Isles, takes the long thin fingers in her own. She resists the urge to kiss them. "Korsak obviously knows something about you. He knows where you came from...he's going to help us."

Jane glances over the doctor's shoulder at Korsak, standing in the corner, watching the interaction.

[He knows what I am?]

The doctor turns back to Korsak. "Do you know where she came from?" Korsak nods, but doesn't say anything. "Will you help us? Will you tell us?"

He looks at Jane, she stares back at him, eyes narrowed. "Yes. I'll...tell you what I know."

The Doctor looks back at Jane. "Okay?"

Jane lowers her chin. she pulls Maura closer without touching her. [stay close to me]

Maura smiles, nodding, biting back the word she wants to say, which is _forever_.

But she thinks that maybe Jane hears it anyway.

...

The sun rises bright and clear as Korsak finds another chair and sets it down for Jane between Maura and Frost.

"Korsak worked for the LAPD from 1976 to 1982," he says, and Korsak settles himself across from them, nodding. "He trained me in Detroit a couple years ago, before I got the call to go to Washington."

Korsak is holding a shoebox. "Special Forces," he says, looking down at the table. "I've worked everywhere from California to New York, mostly tracking the cult behind Invic-"

[what am I?]

The doctor can tell by the way Korsak cuts off abruptly, that Jane has asked the room at large.

Korsak looks stunned, and for a moment, he doesn't answer.

"You're an Invictu," he says quietly, and Jane looks at Maura, but she doesn't have any answers.

"What is that?" Frost asks.

Korsak sighs, rubbing along his jaw, "when I first started on the force, two weeks into the job, we get a call about child abuse. There's this huge, huge family living out in the 'burbs. Ten kids, eleven kids, we never really got a good count. But the reports coming in were the same: kids weak, with bruises. Kids that just stop showing up to school, kids without the proper immunization...the whole nine yards." He pulls a thick document out of the box and sets it on the table. Maura pulls it towards her.

It is heavy, typed and printed on thick paper, like card stock, and the doctor feels her breathing get shallow. It is titled. **A New Race of Humans. **

"We couldn't touch 'em. There wasn't enough to go on. A family with ten kids is rowdy, not illegal. Kids rough house, kids fall down...We could never get close enough to make anything stick. There was always a different woman when we answered the door. We never met the patriarch. There was always a new infant...it was like trying to put hand cuffs on water." He shakes his head, looking at all of them. Jane is glancing between Korsak and Dr. Isles, following along with a mixture of emotions and familiar words.

"And then one day, we get reports of a death. A two year old. We knew it was on. We vested up, we got back up. Something's going down in that house and now we have the ok to get in there."

The doctor looks down a the first page of the document.

**_Invictum:_**_ Invincible. To create a human outside the realms of possibility. __To create a being able to wield a machine with exact, cognitive precision. We must make the machine and the human one entity._

"We got there too late. They were long gone, like they knew we were coming. but we found that," Korsak points at the document. "and we could figure out what was going on from the rooms..." He pauses, reaching forward to flip a page for the doctor.

_It is necessary to contaminate the child with the virus early, but not so early that they do not have the needed immune system in place to fight the bacteria. The ideal time for infection is between 32 and 48 months of age, although transfusions and sometimes organ replacement is necessary in order to keep a viable infected child alive. _

The doctor and Frost look up at the same time, their faces both confused and shocked. Jane is still staring down at the document.

Korsak is nodding. "We tracked this group all over California. From San Francisco down to San Diego and back. Four years of my life. It became clear to us that this wasn't a family, but group of families, all dedicated to this...this movement... A cult. We classified them as a cult officially in 1999, and that gave us clearance to raid any building where we suspected them to be. It was a big leap...if we could just find them."

_Three to seven months after birth, it becomes of utmost importance to separate the most viable children from those who will serve as blood and organ donors in the future. It is important to impress upon any distraught mothers or fathers, who joined the cause thinking their children would be part of the new human race that the sacrifice of their sons and daughters is both worthy and noble. And not only that, but the blood of their children lives on in those who have been chosen, and in that sense, they are not truly gone. _

[Sacrifice] Jane's emotions seem to be frozen. Maura can feel them vibrating just under the surface. holding back.

Korsak looks at her sharply, still not used to hearing her without hearing her. "Yes," he says lowly, "Sacrifice."

The doctor is shaking her head. "This is...this is...this cannot be."

Korsak nods, "That's what I thought...I showed that to my supervisors, and they pushed it off as a wackjob with a following. Told me we couldn't get every cult out there. To just forget it." He rubs his eyes, " But I couldn't. They disappeared off the map and I set up contacts all over. Utah, Austin, Toledo, Chicago, anywhere I thought they might go to set up again...I got calls every once in a while, but by the time I could get out there, they were gone again." He looks at Jane, "It was all the same MO. Someone gets suspicious, too many kids and parents with seemingly no family ties...kids disappearing..." He looks away from them for a moment. "I finally got a tape from a contact in New York City..." He falters "It was unbelievable."

_the fully infected child will be able to move objects with his mind. He will control machines without touching them. He will possess the ability to control those around him. In short he will be a force to be reckoned with and with the proper protection and armor, he will be an unstoppable force on the front lines of battle and on the streets, in the war against city violence. Although no viable subjects have yet to make it past the age of 52 months, I remain confident that altering the human brain and genetic make up is possible and that we will eventually see a new race of human emerge. The problem of heart failure and the regeneration of 'bad blood' is simply a hurdle we will have to surmount. If five, if fifteen, even if twenty have to die to make one of these new beings, it should be considered a necessary evil. _

"He was six or seven. They just found him wandering the streets of Manhattan in the middle of the winter. No coat. He had no language, but it took seventeen cops and a tranq gun strong enough to take down an elephant, to subdue him."

The doctor squeezes Jane's hand, "That sounds familiar."

"What happened to him?" Frost.

"He flipped the cop car en route to the hospital. All three inside were killed."

"Jesus," Frost breathes.

"By the time I got there, the compound where the cult was supposed to be had been demolished completely. Three women did not make it out."

Maura feels a hazy image of a man standing outside a building as it crumbles in front of him. She frowns...Something occurs to her. "What year was this?"

Korsak, runs a hand through his greying hair. " '95 or so? 94 or 95."

Maura looks at Jane. "You were nine," she says, but Jane isn't listening. She's looking down at the paper in the doctor's hand, and Maura doesn't have to be a mind reader to know which sentence the brunette is stuck on.

_If five, if fifteen, if twenty have to die to make one of these new beings, it should be considered a necessary evil. _

[I am one of these] not a question. [I am part of this.] Maura feels nausea like a sick green bubble in the back of her throat.

"You didn't know," she says, and when her hand slides into the dark hair, she feels the healed line of a scar. "You were a little girl...you didn't know any other life."

[i was made...other children...] but she goes blank for a moment. like the end of that sentence is too difficult to even finish.

Maura follows the line of the scar up and around to Jane's temple. Jane Clementine Rizzoli. "No. You were a victim. just like them."

[but they...they died for me] anger...devastation. Jane pushes blood. a child hooked up to a transfusion machine. [I took until they died?] she already knows the answer, and so Maura says nothing, just reaches out for her.

But Jane turns away, her eyes dark, haunted. She looks at Korsak.

[how many?]

"what?" he rubs at his head, like she's smacked him.

[how many died to make me?]

He stares, "I...I don't know...Jane. You're the only one I've ever met...and according to this," he indicates the booklet, "you weren't supposed to make it past six."

"Why do you live out here?" Maura cuts across whatever question Jane is going to ask next. "Why aren't you in the force anymore."

Korsak sighs, "I gave the higher ups everything I'd amassed. All my theories, everything I'd guessed...and the feds were on us faster than white on bread. Last I heard it went all the way to the White House," he shrugs as Frost and Dr. Isles exchange looks. "I don't know if they were trying to eradicate it...or duplicate it. I took early pension. I couldn't stay..."

Jane stands abruptly, turning away from the table, and the chair she was sitting in tips like it's going to fall and then rights itself, like it's attached to a string.

"Jane!" Maura stands to follow her, but the woman does not respond. She walks away, head shaking, and when Maura tries to follow her, Frost holds her back. They hear her bang out the screen door.

"I should go after her, she could..." But Maura stops, realizing that there are very few things that could hurt the brunette.

"Doc, I know you care about her, but think about what she's just discovered about herself." Frost's voice is low.

Dr. Isles nods, "I am! She must be so..." but there are no words for how Jane must be feeling. Maura hugs herself.

"Are _you_ alright?" Frost rests his hand on her shoulder. "It was a lot to take in."

"She's not a monster," Maura says vehemently, "Whatever they wanted to create when they made her...they failed."

Frost nods, "And someone loved her enough to save her in that explosion. Someone didn't want to see her die."

"The man she remembers...who took care of her...she remembers him fondly."

Frost frowns, "A father, you think?"

Maura shakes her head, realizing something. "No...I've met her father...Frost...I think...I think she was kidnapped...and changed."

Frost looks at her sharply. "What?"  
Maura sighs, turning back to dining room table, where Korsak still sits. "Come, sit down again. I supposed it's time I tell you what I know..."

...

Their second night in Korsak's ranch house is so black that when Maura tries to make out her hand two inches from her face, she cannot. She rolls over onto her side and tries to synthesize some of the information that she received today.

Invictum.

Daniel Beckett was building a race of super-humans. _Why?_

The doctor tries to concentrate, but a sound reaches her through the darkness, followed by the trickle of an emotion, like Jane is trying to keep it away from her, but it is leaking out of her against her will.

Maura sits up suddenly. "Jane!?" It is a terrible sadness. The little she can feel is ripping at her, and before she knows what she's doing, she's stumbling across the room towards the cot where she knows Jane to be resting. The brunette had returned just before dinner, but had headed to the back room and her cot without eating, throwing herself onto the cot and closing her eyes.

Maura moves slowly. The night is around her, pressing against her on all sides. The wood floor is cool under her feet, and she feels her way along the wall, reaching out for a hand or a shoulder. Anything.

"Jane. Say something. Tell me where you are...Where are you?" She whispers, and the crying inside her head seems to lessen, pull away a bit.

"No!" Maura hisses, a little frantic now. "Don't do that. Please. _please._ Where are you?"

And finally, there is a noise, coming off to the left and close to her, a hiccup of pain, like someone trying not to cry, and Maura spins, surging forward until her knees hit the metal edge of Jane's cot, and she reaches out, finding knees and thighs and a narrow waist, shivering with the strain of holding in tears.

Desperate to know what's going on in her head, to comfort her somehow, Maura slides in next to the brunette on the little bed. She slips her hands up and under the t-shirt, pressing them hard against the flat stomach underneath. It is the closest they've ever been, the most physical, and Maura feels herself getting lost in the body beside her, more than she ever has. She can't help the gasp of pain that escapes her mouth. The anger and the pain and misery radiate away from Jane and into every part of the doctor's body. Tears are in her eyes immediately, even though it takes her a moment to understand what is hurting the woman beside her.

[killer. i'makiller. killer. killer.] over and over again. muddled.

"No!" Maura has trouble getting it out through gritted teeth. She pulls Jane closer, and feels the brunette's tears, hot and wet on her neck and chest.

"Honey, no. You're not a killer. You didn't kill anyone."

But Jane rejects this so quickly and completely that the cot they are on together shudders. Pain rocks them again, and Maura has the idea that the brunette is trying to hold herself back.

[children.] Jane pushes mothers, holding onto their sons and daughters, tears streaming down their cheeks, and the doctor realizes that all the children in the image are dead. [children died so that i could...could] she flickers, and the bed shudders again.

"Jane, honey, you didn't know. You didn't _know_. that's what was happening. You were a little girl, just as much a victim as those mothers and-"

But Jane is sitting up. She's standing, and in the darkness around them she seems to have a sixth sense about where she's going. The doctor struggles to follow her, not caring if she's making enough noise to wake Frost or Korsak. She is simply intent on the idea that this woman should not leave her sight.

Jane pushes the swinging door of the ranch house open and stumbles out onto the front lawn. Maura tries to follow her but Jane holds her back with an invisible hand on her chest, like a kick to the gut.

"_Jane." _She's not sure if she's screaming. "Don't leave me!"

She is a doctor. She is clinical and rational, and she does not believe that a human being can move things with her mind. She does not believe in monsters. She does not believe in love.

[killer. i'm a killer.] even now that they are not touching, the anger is overwhelming. She is trying to see through it, and she is trying to fight the force that is holding her back.

"You didn't know!" She must be screaming because Frost is next to her. He's got both ands on her shoulders and in some small, clear, part of her brain, she understands that he is talking to her. Trying to calm her down.

But then Jane lifts her hands.

And three, fully grown trees are ripped up from the ground, roots and all.

"Jesus." Korsak, next to Frost, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Maura puts her hands over her heart, watching as Jane rips another tree from the ground, crying out with the effort.

"Stop her!" Maura tries to move again, but she can't. She feels Frost and Korsak struggle too. "Jane!" she calls again, and she is momentarily surprised to hear tears in her voice.

The doctor does not cry. "_Stop_. You're going to hurt yourself. You're going to-"

[GOOD] the feeling is inconsolable. [Let it kill me. serves me right] satisfaction. another tree shudders out of the ground, buckling into kindling under her gaze. Her shoulders rise and fall rapidly, and Maura feels her getting weaker. [kill me too]

"NO!" Maura uses all of the strength she has to push forward two steps. It is like moving a wall.

"No...No listen to me." She is no longer sure it she's speaking in her head or out loud. "You are not a monster. You are not a killer...Look at what you're doing right now! Holding us back. Holding me out of the way...protecting! That's not something a killer would do..." she falters and she can feel Jane's anger subside a little. She can feel her listening. She closes her eyes. "But you saved me. You saved Frost."

Silence in return. She tries to move forward again. She makes it one step. She tries to reach out.

"And you were right...okay? In the car...you were right! And...I couldn't...I couldn't feel that way about you...not if you were a monster."

ten shivering seconds of silence, and then she feels the barrier disappear and she is running forward before she registers that her feet are moving. Jane has fallen to her knees in the yard, hands shaking, and under the stars, in the half light cast by them, she _looks_ supernatural. unearthly.

Maura wraps her arms around the shaking shoulders, kissing the dark head, and her relief mingles with the pain and the fear and the exhaustion of the woman in her arms.

"I'm sorry" quiet and halting, and more felt than spoken, but Maura hears her nonetheless. "I'm so so sorry."

"Shh," she pulls Jane closer, tilts the head so she can look into deep dark eyes, sacred and sad. "It's alright. You're alright."

"Maura," her name comes from Jane's lips, and Maura wants to kiss her. Jane can feel it. the doctor know she does.

"Say it," Jane looks at her, direct and unafraid. She whispers. "say it."

And Maura pulls the dark head to her chest, hoping that Jane will be able to hear her heart when she speaks. After all she can hear everything else.

"Love," she whispers back, and she is full.

"It's called love."


	9. Nine

_Once he gained access to the restricted files, He found the information he needed quite quickly. He'd stumbled upon it, really, looking for information on the extent of the power an Invictu could wield, as well as any limitations they faced. He'd gone looking for places Special Agent Frost would go as well as any connections Maura might have in the Midwest. He'd gone looking for something to save his own skin. _

_He found all of that, and more. _

_He'd found the information and he'd stared at it for a good three minutes…the plan beginning to form immediately. _

_Now he stands in front of the Director, watching as the man reads the information, rubbing his chin. _

_"The doctor?" _

_"Yes, sir," Ian responds. _

_"You're sure?" _

_"Yes, sir. Dr. Isles and I were…involved…That's how I know. I would stake my career on it. We can get the beast…the Invictu, this way…they're connected…and that's why." Ian had pointed at the report in the Director's hand. _

_"Would you stake your __life__ on it, Dr. Faulkner?" _

_"My…Uh…yes, yes I would." He tries to stomp out the tremor in his voice._

_"And you'll be going personally? To bring them to me?" _

_Ian nods, "I'll be leading the team into Champaign, yes, sir." _

_The Director smiles, but it seems to make him look more sinister. Ian represses a shudder. "Good…this is…this is good. Take all the agents and firepower you need…but, Doctor?" _

_Ian turns back, "Yessir?" _

_"I want them both alive. __Alive.__ Do you understand the importance of bringing back living specimens for study? How can I replicate the taste of Coca-Cola if I do not first have a drink of it?" _

_"Yes, sir," Ian says, looking down at his feet. "I understand, sir." _

_"Of course you don't," The Director sneers "You are a petty, selfish man, and a mediocre doctor. But you understand what is at stake for you, if you do not succeed, and that…I think…will have to be enough." _

_And the Director flips his hand to show Ian that he is dismissed, and the doctor flees, wondering, not for the first time, what he has gotten himself into. _

* * *

_..._

The morning in Champaign dawns clear and bright. Jane sleeps hard on the cot next to the doctor, and for a moment, Maura just looks at her lying there, arm draped over her stomach, hand gripping her hip bone. They'd fallen into bed after Jane's tantrum in the yard, and Jane had wrapped the doctor in her arms and held on, the feelings of exhaustion and helplessness and fear flowing through both of them. Like they shared the same vascular system.

"It's alright," Maura had whispered, trying to hold onto her own emotions of comfort and love and protection long enough to push them back through to the brunette. "It's alright. I'm here."

[stay] almost a command. As though Jane was fighting the urge to hold her to the bed.

Maura had pushed closer, wanting to convey that there was no need for anyone to force her.

"Of course," she'd whispered, feeling the tall lanky body settle beside her. Finally.

"Always."

But now it is morning, and when the doctor looks at Jane, she realizes that she's dreaming, that she can feel it, bending inside her. But the emotions are muted and serene, a happy dream for once. Maura is glad.

Gently, so as not to wake her, the doctor slips out of the bed, and with one last affectionate glance over her shoulder, she makes her way into the kitchen where Frost and Korsak are talking quietly at the table. They look up at her when she appears, twin looks of exhaustion and unease.

"Coffee's on the stove," Korsak says, watching her as she turns away from them. "She still sleeping?"

Dr. Isles pours herself a cup of coffee and turns back around, sipping. "Yes. It was difficult to get her to drop off last night after... She's…" The doctor pauses, trying to think. "Distraught."

Korsak gestures that she should join them at the table, and she does, pulling up a chair. Frost glances at her.

"I was just telling Korsak here that you seem to have an extra special connection with Jane," he says, and he is successful at keeping his voice neutral, but not his face.

The doctor glances between them, understanding. "I see. You think that there is something I'm not telling you. In terms of our relationship."

Korsak looks at Frost, who shakes his head, "If you had…abilities…like Jane has, we would already know. You would have done something to break her out of that building."

The doctor nods, "What is it then?" She thinks she already knows, but she wants to make them say it.

Korsak shifts, "You're…in love with her, doctor." A statement, not a question.

Maura almost laughs, because it's true, even if she's still half trying to fight it. She nods again, and Frost's shoulders shrug a couple of times. "Yes…I suppose I am," she feels a sort of righteous anger flare up inside of her. "Have you two gotten up early to discuss how to tell me that you don't approve?" She looks between the men. They glance at each other. "I see. Well, I can't say that I've ever felt this way about another woman," she flushes despite her best efforts to control her emotions, "But I also can't say that I've ever felt this way about anyone. Nor do I believe that love is defined so narrowly as to only include humans of the opposite sex. So if you two are going to sit there and try to spout something homophobic and-"

But Frost goes pale and Korsak sputters, nearly overturning his coffee mug.

"What?" Frost is the first to regain his ability to speak, "No! No… Doc, you're misunderstanding us," he looks at Korsak for help.

The older man furrows his brow. He pushes the document from the night before across the table. "You need to read this," he says quietly, "in its entirety."

She takes it off the table and weighs it in her hands. It has to be a hundred pages, at least. She looks up at their faces. "I can tell by your expressions that it is important, but it will take me some time to read…time that we don't particularly have," she waits a beat, but neither of them contradicts her. "So give me the short version. For now."

Korsak sighs, rubbing at his face. "There were three main players in the Invictu movement," he says, and Frost and Maura lean back in their seats, listening."

"Tony Pazerretti, Patrick Doyle, and Daniel Beckett." Only one of those names sounds familiar to Maura. She rubs her head.

"Beckett….In one of Jane's dreams…one that I fell into…There were people talking. She was in…tremendous pain, and her head." Maura massages her scalp, the memory of the dream lingering like a bruise. "Someone was saying…Beckett…what have you done…Something like that."

Korsak looks at her for a moment, and she has the feeling she's unnerved him even more with the amount that she has just revealed about her connection with Jane.

"That makes sense," Korsak says after a while, "because Beckett was the ring leader. This is his doctrine, and the virus was his creation. He wanted to be the one to unveil this new race. To take the credit for it, and then, with the Feds closing in on him, he decided if he couldn't claim glory…no one could." Korsak mimes an explosion. "I'm sure he was Jane's creator, though I doubt he was the one to save her." Korsak stares at the hard wood table, deep in thought. "But the explosion of that compound in Boston…that was his last hurrah. The ultimate middle finger at a government that was trying to shut him down."

"Or steal his thunder," Frost puts in, and Korsak nods.

But the doctor shakes her head. "That doesn't make sense. If he knew the compound was going to blow up, why not get them both to safety? Start fresh somewhere else?"

"Maybe he ran out of time. Maybe he counted on Jane to protect him, and for whatever reason…she failed." Korsak looks at her hard, and she understands what he is saying. For a moment she almost feigns stupidity, but the anger that had died down during their speculation has flared again.

"You think I put too much trust in her ability to protect me."

Korsak makes an impatient gesture, "I think that she loves you as much as, if not more than, you love her, and that she will protect you no matter the cost." He says quietly, and Maura cannot help the feeling of elation that bursts inside of her, though it is quickly extinguished.

"Cost?"

Korsak points at the document. "They're not expected to live past six, Doctor Isles, do you know why that is?"

The doctor blinks.

"Organ failure," he says bluntly, and it is like someone has turned on a lightbulb in the Dr. Isles' head. "Their bodies cannot sustain the prolonged stress of their abilities. That six year old that they found in New York? He didn't die from the car crash," Korsak's voice is harsh. "He died from a heart attack. You won't find it in any of the M.E. reports, because the government covered it up faster than you can blink, but that little boy had the heart of an eighty year old man. He flipped the car and the strain of it killed him instantly."

The nose bleeds. The shortness of breath. The fatigue. Maura closes her eyes.

"Jane is what…twenty five?"

"Twenty Seven."

Korsak huffs. "It's a miracle that she's still alive and if she continues to blow up concrete jail cells, and rip trees out of the ground…"

But the doctor shakes her head, raising her hand to get him to stop. He does, looking half guilty and half satisfied that she has understood.

Several things are happening inside Maura Isles at that moment, though the most overwhelming emotion is that of…gratitude. These men do not know here. Barold Frost has known her for four days, and Korsak for less than two. Yet they are concerned. _For_ her. For what will happen to her if she loses Jane. She is touched.

"It's amazing that she's as old as she is. That she hasn't had a heart attack, or gone into liver or kidney failure."

But something else occurs to the doctor, through her haze of confusion and fear. "He wouldn't let her exert herself."

Both of the other men look at her, and she opens her eyes to look back at them. "When we were in the hotel," she says, explaining. "I asked her…I asked her why she didn't know more about what she could do…and she said that 'He' never let her do those things. He controlled her."

"Beckett?" Frost asks, leaning forward.

But the doctor shrugs. "I don't know. All I know is that she idolized him. He took care of her." She nods as another memory comes back to her, "she's in…impeccable physical condition. I noted it when she arrived in the hospital. She must have…been exercised…often. That could also explain why she hasn't yet suffered a…a" but she can't say heart attack. She cannot even say cardiac event.

Korsak shakes his head, "Then I'm gonna go with someone other than Beckett. He was a hard son of a bitch and he had one mission and one goal. I don't think it would have occurred to him to take care of anything he made."

"Not even a terrified four year old girl?"

Korsak shakes his head. "No."

"What happened to the other guys. Pazerretti and Doyle?"

Korsak shakes his head, "As far as I know, Doyle got cold feet. Too much death. He tried to leave and they killed him. He was fished out of the Hudson about a year and a half ago. Pazerretti was pulled out of the wreckage along with Beckett."

"Maybe he was the one who took care of Jane," Frost suggests.

No one answers. Everything is possible.

Something tugs at the back of the doctor's mind, reaches for her, increasingly insistent. "She's awake."

Frost nods, but Korsak looks at her. "You can feel her."

The doctor nods. "Yes."

"Always?"

"Yes."

Korsak frowns, "Has she ever tried to control you?"

And Dr. Isles would laugh if that question didn't infuriate her. What comes out is a sort of half scoffing noise. Like she's disgusted. "No. She's not dangerous. She's not the Invictu that Daniel Beckett envisioned. Not by a long shot."

Korsak puts up his hands, but his face is not apologetic. "Excuse me, but she was fucking dangerous to anyone in your path back in Washington. And either way, doctor…It's not normal…to feel her always. You realize that, right? You're sure you've never come in contact with any of this before?"

"I…" The doctor hesitates. "Yes...Of course I'm sure."

"You hesitated," He says and Frost looks up at her.

"I…"

"You did it again. Hiding something?" He is both joking and serious.

"I am not hiding anything," Maura feels a thrill of panic run up her spine. Jane answers immediately. questioning her.

[alright?] She shakes her head, trying to focus. "I was…I was…I hesitated because I'm adopted. I was adopted at three. So I cannot conclusively say that-"

But before she can finish her sentence, she feels herself pulled backwards along the floor, like she is on roller skates. And Frost's chair skids backwards too.

"What the!" Frost's yelp of surprise blends with her own.

But then Jane is there, in the center of the room, between the doctor and Korsak, and it only takes Maura a moment to realize what has happened.

Jane had asked if she was alright and she had responded with no.

"Jane, it's okay," she says quickly. "I made a mistake, it's alright."

She moves forward to put her hand on the brunette's shoulder. It does not escape her notice that Jane has also protected Frost. "I made a mistake, Jane," She repeats. "I didn't mean to say no. I was just thinking and I go confused."

Jane turns into Maura, resting her forehead in the curve where the doctor's neck becomes her shoulder, and the jolt of protective affection and relief and contentment is so strong and so primitive that Maura whimpers. She can't help it. Her arms come up and around the skinny frame of their own volition, and she kisses the side of Jane's head.

"I'm fine," she whispers, but when she looks over the woman's shoulder, she can see Korsak looking at her, and she knows that Jane has just proved his point.

[Frost?] Maura feels Jane call out to him.

"I'm alright, Jane," He says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Jesus, you scared me."

She turns to him, flashes him a grin. He grins back.

"You think I'd hurt these two?" Korsak's voice is rough, and the doctor can't tell if he is angry, or sad.

Jane's response is for him, but Maura can feel it, and she knows by the way Frost's eye brows shoot up that he can hear it too. [I don't know.]

"You don't trust me?" Korsak pushes himself out of his seat. Jane stands a little taller.

[You don't trust _me_]. she is taller than he is, and his eyes sweep her frame once. [you're hiding things from me.] a growl and the feeling of doors. Locked without keys.

Korsak grunts. "Like I could hide anything from you. Come in! Take what you want!" He knocks on his head with his fist, like he's offering it to her.

But Jane stomps her foot, and she speaks out loud, so that the corresponding feelings in their heads ring like echoes.

"I. Am not. MONSTER." She points at him, and her fury is underscored with hurt. "Will not _take._"

And Maura understands. She remembers Jane's promise in the observation room a million years ago, to not take any memories or feelings that the doctor did not offer up. Maura had trusted her in that moment, and she had stopped resisting the pull at the back of her mind. She'd stopped resisting.

She remembers the way Jane had put her hand on Frost's shoulder in the back hall of the motel. How his face had changed. She wonders if something similar had happened then, between the two of them.

She looks up as Korsak's hands curl into fists and then go slack. "I know you won't," he says after a moment. Jane continues to stare at him.

For a moment, no body moves. They all stand there, Jane in the center, the other three looking at her. Like commoners around a strange and powerful genie that they do not fully understand.

The Korsak moves towards the door. He gestures at Jane. "C'mon," he says. And Jane must ask where they are going because Korsak shakes his head and says, "You'll see."

And even though it hasn't been stated, Frost and Maura know enough to stay behind. They watch the man and the young woman head off across a field to the right.

"This is crazy," Frost breathes.

The doctor nods, "It is…I'm sorry you cannot return to your home and your family," she says after a moment's pause. "At least not yet."

But Frost chuckles, "Are you insane? And miss this?" He shakes his head. "Besides, I didn't have a family. My life is the job. You're a doctor, Maur, You have to know what that's like."

"Maur?" it catches her off guard.  
He looks at her apprehensively. "Yeah…a nickname…sorry. If you would rather I call you Doctor-"

But she shakes her head, "No…" She considers him, "Barry. That's alright."

He looks amused. "Barry, huh?" like he's trying it out on his tongue. "Alright," he says after a moment, turning to look back at Jane and Korsak, distant specks now. "But just you."

Maura smiles.

…

They sleep side by side again, without discussing it. Jane slides into Maura's bed and lays her head down on her chest. She and Korsak had returned after an hour, and although neither of them said anything, Korsak looks a little red eyed, and Jane no longer placed herself between him and the doctor.

"What did you do?" The doctor can no longer stand not knowing. "Did Korsak show you something?"

Regret. [I can't tell you. he asked me]

Maura understands, though she doesn't have to like it. "You trust him now?"

A nod. Jane presses closer. [he has pain]. and the doctor feels the kind of pain her training cannot fix. [he has guilt].

The doctor nods. "Who doesn't"

Jane raises up on an elbow to look at Maura. She traces a finger down her jaw and back up, watching the way the blonde's eyes flutter closed.

[you're beautiful] like a hundred flowers opening at the same time. Maura catches her breath. [were you meant for me?] She's really asking if she belongs to someone else. Maura opens her eyes.

"It feels like I was. Doesn't it?" She sighs, "I don't want anybody else, Jane."

This woman wants to kiss her. Maura can feel it. She wants it to happen. She tries to make that known without speaking.

_If you put your lips to mine right now. I would not mind at all._

And when she looks up into the eyes above her, she sees they are smiling. Jane moves closer, so that when she speaks they are inches apart.

"okay," she whispers, and she presses her lips firmly against Maura's.

It's an explosion.

Maura is too caught up in the heart stopping, free falling feeling to realize that there is actually a mini explosion that happens in the room. She does not notice until wind whips the blankets around the bed, and then she looks up and realizes that both the windows in the room have blown out.

Jane looks around, surprised.

Maura giggles. "whoops." She says.

Jane pushes surprise shot through with a need that rolls Maura's stomach. [We did that?]

The doctor nods. "It would appear so."

Jane smirks. And she pulls the covers around them tighter. [again?]

Maura closes her eyes. "please."

Jane dips her head, coming in, but before their lips can do more than graze each other's, the brunette pulls away, sitting up suddenly.

Maura sits up too, looking around. "What is it?" Jane doesn't answer. Her eyes have closed, and she is frowning. "Jane?"

But then the brunette is scrambling from the bed, and the hazy, fearful, angry message that shoots back at her, makes her throw the covers back and yell for Korsak and Frost.

She reaches under the bed for her bag, still yelling, And Jane pushes SUVS and SWAT vans and one very familiar driver. And Maura yells again for Forst and Korsak, knowing they have minutes. If that.

"Jane!" she cries, and the woman grabs her hand in the dark, pulling her through the house towards the front door. In the half light from the crescent moon she can see Korsak holstering a gun and Frost stumbling behind him, pulling on his jacket, and she knows that Jane has pushed her message to them too.

She feels a surge of adrenaline and fear as Jane pushes it again, pulling Maura forward.

[They're coming.]

* * *

**You guys rock. seriously. I was so nervous that you guys would be like. this is sci fi and dumb and I hate you. But you did the opposite and for that I say thank you. And cry UGLY tears of gratitude. I'm in a tiny ugly tear river over here. got a boat. no oars. **

**anyway. your questions: **

**1. They got to korsak's house in the night. talked through to the morning and then went to bed again. thus. "the second night at the ranch is black black..." got it? good o. **

**2. this has nothing to do with The Moment...seriously three anons who asked that? seriously? **

**3. I know nothing about science...so...there are gonna be some inaccuracies. I would also like to point out that people cannot make things move with their minds, or start cars with their minds or...RIP TREES FROM THE EARTH with their minds...so...there are gonna be some inaccuracies around that whole thing too. **

**4. okay...when is said chronicle I might not have been thinking about the ending. lol. although...**

**well. I won't give anything away. **

**As always. you guys are the bomb diggity (ninteen nintey whaaaat?) and you all have my heart. completely **

**happy reading. **

**tc**


	10. Ten

_"You have lost your mind. We can't move them again. None of them are in any condition to move." _

_"Jane can move. We can leave the rest." _

_She looks up from where she's sitting in the corner at her name. Watching as they talk, not understanding anything but His fear and fury._

_"We can't leave pregnant women and babies to fend for themselves on the streets of Boston." _

_The man He calls Beckett waves him away. "They would hardly be fending for themselves. I don't mean that we should leave them with anything to fend for." _

_And she stand now, because the part of Jane that is connected to Him feels nothing but disgust and terror._

_"You don't mean…Danny…we can't." _

_But Beckett points at her, and she doesn't have to pull at his mind to see the glint of determination and power in his features. "Look at her, Tony! Look at what she's become. She's what…twenty something now? Tell me you would ever have imagined something like her." _

_And He looks at her too. Sadness. Regret. "Yes. Twenty six. No language. No idea of an outside world beyond what we show her. Beyond dark windows as we shuttle her from place to place. That's not a life." _

_"I will make more like her." _

_"Not if the government shuts you down, you won't." _

_But Beckett scoffs, coming over to stand near her. She cringes away, looking to Him for direction. He tells her to stay put. _

_"The government doesn't want to shut me down. They want to steal my ideas. They want to use what I know for their own gain." _

_She tries to push Him some of her fear and anxiety, but he blocks her out, firmly._

_"Danny. Think about what you're doing. Think about what you've done. The countless lives that have been lost. The family that is probably still grieving for a child that they believe to be de-"_

_But Beckett crosses the room and punches Him in the face before he can finish the sentence. _

_The pain and surprise of the hit rocket through Jane too, and before she knows what she's doing, she's standing, pushing out with her hands, and Daniel Beckett is flying across the room. He slams into the wall, and Jane pulls and pushes so that he is pulled forward and then slammed back again. She repeats and repeats, feeling her breathing start to get shallow. Feeling light headed. _

_[STOP] His command is furious and terrified and she drops Beckett to the ground, breathing hard, fury ebbing away into fear. _

_[he hit you] she uses what's left of her anger to push a little bit of bravado along with her statement. _

_He softens but not a lot. He moves to her and takes her wrist in his hand, feeling her pulse. _

_[I can take the hit] low. Distracted._

_In the corner, Beckett is pulling himself to his feet. But instead of looking angry, or even hurt, he looks ebullient…maniacally happy. _

_"What's her pulse?" _

_Both He and Jane look around at Beckett. "What?" _

_"Is it erratic? Is her nose bleeding? She doesn't appear to be shaking." Beckett comes right up to her and tips her face back to examine her. Jane goes rigid under his hands, staying still only because she has been ordered to. _

_"What's her heart rate?" Beckett repeats. He looks ecstatic. Crazy. _

_"N-normal." He stutters back, and Jane looks at him, weighing his fear against her own. _

_Beckett crows. It is an inhuman sound. It makes the hairs on the back of Jane's neck stand up. _

_"How many times a day do you exercise her?" _

_"Three two hour periods." _

_"When was the last time she stopped oxidizing her own blood? When was the last time you had to give her yours?" _

_He pauses, looking at her, and she wants to do something to help his pain and his terror. But he tells her to stay silent, to stay still, and she does. _

_"She hasn't needed a transfusion in years." _

_Beckett grins at her, he leers. Jane feels Him tense. She wants to go to Him but he holds her in place. "But that doesn't mean-"_

_"Of course it does." Beckett cuts across Him, and he turns towards the door. "I've done it." He punches a fist into the air. "Not only have I created a master race, but I've done something more. The way you two communicate is…" _

_"The Feds are hot on us. They're not just going to let us walk out of here." _

_Beckett turns and looks at Jane, then at Him, eyes dark and dangerous. _

_"Then let's make sure they're looking the other way." And with that Beckett disappears, leaving Him and Jane alone in the little room. _

…

"Maur…Maura wake up! Wake up." The doctor drags her eyes open and then immediately shuts them tight again.

"Ugh," she says, squinting up into the dark face, silhouetted on either side by the bright glare of the sun. "Uh, what time is it?"

Frost leans back, "Almost seven. We're going to have to stop soon...A car with no plates is going to draw suspicion real fast in the day time." He watches her as she sits up. Jane sleeps on, next to her in the back seat, brow furrowed. Korsak's eyes meet hers in the rearview mirror.

"Where are we?"

"Coming up on Kansas City," Korsak is the one that answers. "I figure we can disappear there for the day, and then keep moving when it's late enough." His eyes flick up to hers again. "Are you alright, Doctor?"

She rubs at her face. "Yes…yes, why do you ask?"

Korsak glances at Forst, "You were muttering in your sleep," the younger man says after a moment. "You mentioned Beckett."

And Maura gasps, because it comes back to her at once…the dream. She had been inside of Jane. Watching it as though she was the brunette…as though she had fallen down into her dreams.

"Jane!" she says urgently, as more of the dream conversation comes back to her. She shakes at the woman next to her. "Jane! Wake up."

And Jane's eyes open at once. She sits up, alert. [alright?]

Maura nods. "Yes, yes we're fine…Listen," she pushes what she can remember of the dream, and Jane's focus sharpens palpably. "Were you dreaming that just now? Did that actually happen, or was that just a dream?"

She knows the answer before it comes. [I remember it].

And the Doctor squeezes her hand and turns to the men in the front. "Pull over…" she says urgently. "We need to talk about what I just saw."

…

The café they choose is dingy, and Maura momentarily laments the fact that she won't get a good cup of coffee. But it is off the main road, and they are the only patrons, and so it is the most ideal location.

Quietly, once they have settled into a booth, Maura recounts what she heard in the dream.

"It's gibberish to Jane," she says, throwing the brunette as quick smile as she looks up, "She had no language. So she wouldn't know how important-"

"How does she remember what she doesn't understand?" Korsak interrupts, and they all turn to look at Jane. She tilts her head at them, confused.

Maura tries to ask her the question again, and once she understands, Jane nods seriously, biting her lip.

At once the doctor has the image of the observation room, and she can tell by the way Korsak's hand shoots to his head, and by how Frost closes his eyes, that they are seeing the same thing too. She can see the nurses running around outside her window, and hear the grunts and swears of the maintenance men as they struggle with the door. The whole thing is like watching a movie.

"Enough," Korsak says, a little roughly, and the picture flickers and dies in her mind. Like a broken DVD player. The doctor rubs Jane's hand.

[good?] asking for approval the way a flower pushes towards the sun. [you understand now?]

Maura nods, smiling. Jane looks reassured.

Frost looks even more awed than usual. "You're like…a…" but he can't go on, and no one tries to pick up where he left off. There is no adequate word for what Jane is.

"Okay," Korsak says, getting back to business. "So from what you said, Tony Pazzeretti got cold feet. Beckett is insane, and planning another escape with Jane…"

"It still doesn't explain why the place burned with Beckett inside it," Frost says.

They all pause as the waiter brings them their coffee. "Did you want coffee, ma'am?" he asks Jane, because she has not ordered when he first came over.

Jane glances at Maura, who nods as discreetly as she can. Jane mimics the movement, and the man shuffles away, throwing a look over his shoulder before disappearing behind the swinging door.

"We're going to have to teach you some rudimentary sentences," Maura says out loud, though it's more to herself than to the others.

Korsak runs a hand through his hair, getting back to business. "It still doesn't make sense," he growls.

"Unless," Maura bites her lip, "Unless Pazzeretti blew up the compound." They all look at her. She raises her eyebrows, asking them to consider it. "Think about it. He hates what's being done to Jane. He knows if Beckett continues, he'll keep destroying lives."

"And what, he takes his own life out of….guilt?" Frost asks incredulously.

"Makes sense," Korsak says quickly. "He had the blood of all those children on his hands." And Jane looks at him sharply. He rolls his shoulders.

"So Pazzeretti blows the building. Destroying all evidence of what Beckett has done, except…"

All three of them look at Jane.

She's looking down at her hands, face a mask of sadness. [Except me]

They all hear it. None of them knows what to say.

Maura takes Jane's hand in her own, feeling the sadness press in at her, like a headache. "He loved you, Jane. He wanted something better for you."

But Jane pushes shackles. She pushes endless darkness. She pushes alone and left and lonely, and Maura understands what she is saying.

[As long as they know I am out there…they will not stop hunting me]

There is no rebuttal to this, and with a rueful glance around at the rest of them, Jane pushes away from the table and strides out of the café. The three of them watch her cross the street.

The doctor moves to follow, but Korsak holds her back. "No…we'll go," He tilts his head at Frost and the young man nods. "Your connection might not be what she wants to feel just now." And Maura nods, because he's right.

Frost puts a hand on her shoulder. "We'll be right back Doc."

She watches them disappear around the corner after Jane, and rubs her hands over her face. The brunettes anger and sorrow linger over her like a cloud, and she cannot shake the feeling behind the way that Jane had looked at her.

She is so lost in through that she barely hears the tinkle of the café door. She doesn't look up because it can't be Korsak and Forst, not so soon. But whoever comes in slides into the seat across the table from her, and before she can look up, he speaks.

Her blood runs cold.

"You've been holding out on me, Dr. Isles."

She closes her eyes. She doesn't want to see him. "Ian."

"You're far more clever, more conniving than I'd previously marked you to be. I had to push myself much harder to find you than I thought I would. It's made me rather cranky."

_Jane._ In a small corner of her mind, she feels the brunette stop walking. Feels her look back, over her shoulder.

[Alright?]

"Of course," Ian is still talking. "It helps when you have an Invictu pulling strings for you."

Her eyes snap open. Ian smirks at her. "Oh yes, I know all about her, now. In fact, I am almost positive that I know _more_ than you do at this point."

She shakes her head. "You don't know what you're doing," she says quietly. She feels Jane turn back to her.

[alright?]

Ian laughs. It is not kind. "You haven't figured it out yet, have you doctor? Why you're so connected to her?"

"I love her," stated boldly, for the first time…and it's in front of Ian. The doctor grits her teeth, watching the smile on Dr. Faulkner's face widen.

"No," he leans back in the booth and gestures to the waiter. But this new waiter is a woman. The man who waited on them earlier now stands by the door, walkie-talkie in hand. Dr. Isles groans inwardly.

They'd been stupid. They should not have stopped.

"You don't love her," he says quietly, menacingly. "And I'll tell you why."

…

_"You can't do that." _

_"I can do whatever I want." _

_"You already had her slated for infection. There are plenty of infants that share her blood type." _

_"She's going through three infants a week, Doyle. Even you, with your basic math, should be able to figure out that we can't sustain her." _

_"She'll die. You're sentencing my daughter to death." _

_"I'm sentencing her to aid in the biggest medical advance in history. You knew what this was when you got into it. This new girl could be the one. She is_ _the one. I can feel it." _

_"She's off the charts. Maura is off the charts, cognitively. There's no way you want to waste her talent on what might be." _

_"And physically she's below average. She'd need a new heart within the first two years. Jane has been under for almost a month and she shows no signs of heart damage. Not yet, anyway." _

_"Beckett. She's my daughter." _

_"That argument has never worked on me." _

_"You're not God." _

_"No. I'm creating one." _

_…_

"He agreed, initially. Your father." Ian speaks in a careless way, like he's just told her about the weather outside of Topeka. "They hooked you up to all sorts of machines, and for a while…you fed her." Ian pauses here, but Maura can barely see straight, let alone think of a coherent thing to say.  
"But ultimately, he couldn't stand to see his little girl just…languish and die…" Ian shrugs. "So he smuggled you away. He saved you. From the beast."

"No!" She slams her hand down on the table, and wherever she is, Jane speeds up, coming for her.

[Maura]

"No! she says again, and Ian, who has been watching her face, lights up.

"Ah! You feel her! Is she coming here?"

Maura tries to control her panic, but she knows that the brunette can feel it. She feels Jane speeding up in her mind. Feels her reaching for an answer.

[Maura? I'm coming.]

"No," she says, closing her eyes. dropping all pretense now. "No, get out of here! Go the other way."

But the rejection of this plea is immediate and complete.

Ian leans across the divider to grab her hand. "I knew she'd come for you," he whispers in her ear. Maura struggles and he tightens his grip, making her cry out in pain. She can feel Jane's anger explode a little. "You're inside of her," Ian continues, "She's connected to you, and the two of you share a bond beyond anything science has ever seen before. Doyle had no idea what he was doing when he spared you. If Beckett had known that you lived?"

"Jane, please!" Maura ignores him, "Please. Run!"

"Run where, Maura?" Ian sounds gleeful. "My men have Specail Agent Frost and Vincent Korsak. I have you. Where is she to go, without the three of you? Who will she meet that won't turn her over to the police…who will bring her back to m" His hand tightens around her wrist. "No. The only choice she has, the only choice she will make, is to come back and fight for you. She _loves you, _after all."

"_Jane._"

But Maura can feel her reject her again. She can feel her getting closer.

[No] forceful. [you. save you.] hard and furious. Maura feels the rush of a window shattering, wherever she is.

[save you. love. You]

Ian is watching the emotions play over her face. He leans forward. "I have over seventy five men here. I have a helicopter and seventeen SWAT vans," he pauses to let that sink in. "I have the full weight and power of the government behind me. Do you want to see if your invictu can survive the strain of pulling a helicopter out of the sky? Do you want to watch her die, Dr. Isles?"

[where?] primal. Dangerous. Getting closer. [maura. hold on. Coming]

"NO!" she slams her hand down on the table. "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" She feels Jane stop dead. "No," she says again, as Ian smiles, satisfied, watching as she seemingly talks to herself. Maura's heart is breaking. She blocks it out. She speaks to nothing.

"You stay away from me. Stay away."

The smallest hiccup of dead air…

[what are you doing?]

"Stay away from me. You're dangerous. You bring me nothing but fear and pain." and the doctor uses all her strength to push just those emotions. To block out anything else. "Get away from me. You…use your powers and you hurt people. You do nothing but hurt people."

The surge of despair and anger feels like a physical wound in the doctor's chest. She gasps, putting her hand to her heart.

[Maura?] Soft and tentative. Heartbreaking. [I love you.]

And Maura has never loved anyone like she loves Jane. She knows it is love. Regardless of whatever science has bound them together.

She will not watch this woman die for her.

She redoubles her resolve and pushes fury. She pushes disgust. Jane's heartbreak is like cracking her ribs. A tear drips down the doctor's cheek. She wipes it away angrily.  
Maura looks at Ian, he smiles at her. "You can watch her die trying to protect you," he offers quietly. "That is always an option. Perhaps a more humane one."

The doctor closes her eyes feeling Jane reaching out to her again, asking, afraid…devastated?

[Maura?]

Dr. Isles calls on every moment of anger she's ever had. Every name she's ever been called, every hurt she's ever experienced. She uses it as a wall to block out her love.

She clenches her fists.

"Stay away from me," she manages. And her voice does not waver. She pulls up the ugliest image she can find.

"Stay away from me. You Monster."

* * *

**Don't panic. You know by now that I have Rizzles Seperation Anxiety Disorder. DONT PANIC. **


	11. Killer

_She finds him without a problem, and watches from around the corner as several officers load Frost and Korsak into the back of the van, cuffing them into place. The officer who is holding Maura has a grip tight enough that if she moves, it's going to bruise, and Jane has to physically hold onto the wall of the building next to her in order to keep from throwing him across the road. _

_Under her hands, the red brick crumbles like it's made of sand. She smolders, a dragon awakened. She does not understand many things in this new world that she's been thrown into, but she understands that it is her job to protect the doctor. She may be dangerous and a monster and Maura might not want her anymore…_

_But she loses her train of thought as this last piece occurs to her. She is a monster. Maura, the one person she trusted, who has never lied to her, had called her a monster. And although she does not want to believe it, though it hurts every physical part of her body to admit it, she must. It must be true. _

_More of the brick falls away under her hand as anger and desolation war inside of her. She grits her teeth, trying to hold back the urge to upend every streetlight in sight. She watches the bad doctor grab Maura and shove her up next to Frost. He says something to her that makes her go pale and shake her head vigorously, and Jane can't help but growl low in the back of her throat. _

_Maura looks up, like she's heard it…or felt it…and Jane steps back, completely out of sight. _

_[Jane] clear and pleading, [Jane I know you're close. Get out of here.]_

_Jane reaches hard, but she feels nothing but anger, maybe a little disgust. She shudders. She doesn't answer. _

_She waits until she hears the back of the van slam and then she stalks around the corner, eyes trained on the tall brunette man talking to an officer in a bullet proof vest. The officer sees her coming and his eyes get wide. He raises his gun over the bad doctor's shoulders. He yells something she doesn't understand. It sounds like "Trees!" _

_Jane stops. She looks around at the scrawny planted shrubs along the road. But the bad doctor is saying something, pressing the top of the officer's down towards the pavement. He is smiling at her and gesturing her forward, hands out to show he is unarmed. _

_"Hello, Jane." He says slowly. And he says something else that she doesn't understand. Something that he knows. "I knew you…" the others words are foreign. But his overwhelming feeling is of delight…and relief. _

_You stand straight, hands clenched by your sides. You clear your throat to speak. You have to make yourself clear. You point at your chest. "Me. with you," you point at him, and he nods to show he understands. She glowers. "And you don't hurt, Maura." _

_His eyes light up. Like Jane has given him the best gift he's ever gotten. She understands almost all of his words this time, and it is clear that he's picking each one deliberately. "I see," he says, nodding again. "You moce with me. nad I promise to otn hurt Maura." _

_She nods. "Promise," she growls, sticking out her hand. "Promise." _

_He looks at her for a moment. "You lilw do everything I tell you to?" _

_She bristles, but nods again. And the man beams at her, reaching out as well. "Don't hurt her," Jane says again, and as their hands touch, she feels him push an image. Her hand freezes in his as she gets over her shock enough to understand what she's seeing. _

_Maura. Her Maura. naked, hair through her face, looking up at him through dark eyes. Looking up at him. In his bed. And Jane knows what that means. She is not stupid. _

_She looks up into the doctor's eyes, and he looks back at her, steady, daring her to move. There are ten officers nearby, each one watching the interaction with rapt attention. Her hand tightens in his, and she is aware that she could crush each of his bones in on themselves without too much effort at all. _

_"Deal?" He asks, and his hand squeezes back. He leans in a little and his smile is not kind and open like Maura's have been, or even gruff and grudging like Korsak's. It is sinister. _

_She growls again. _

_"Deal." _

…

The hours drag on and on.

Maura sits with her eyes closed, trying to keep her fear and her apprehension at bay. Every once in a while she tries to call for Jane, but she is met with nothing but silence. The emptiness makes her feel hollow. Less alive. She looks around at Korsak and Frost. Both are staring into space at nothing. "Where do you think they're taking us?"

Frost shrugs, "Back to DC, it feels like." He's cuffed to the seat next to her. Korsak sits across from them, his face expressionless. Maura feels herself start to tear up. She shakes her head, angry for showing weakness.

"Hey, Doc," Frost's voice is gentle, and she has the feeling that if he could, he would reach out and touch her shoulder. "Doc. You did the right thing."

She looks up at him, bleary eyed. "You didn't feel her. You didn't feel what I did to her." As she speaks, the memory of Jane's emotion seems to ghost along her chest cavity. She makes a noise like a mouse being stepped on.

"I hurt her," she whispers, wishing she could cover her face with her hands. "God...I never meant-"

"You did the right thing," Korsak's voice makes them both look around. They've been traveling steadily for three hours, and this is the first time since being cuffed, that Korsak has said anything.

"What?" Maura shakes her head, "How can you say that? I betrayed her. I-"

"You saved her life," Korsak says viciously. "You love her. You proved that." He looks away from their confused faces, and his own jaw works, trying to conceal his emotions. "You did what was best for her instead of thinking about what you wanted," he shakes his head, "If that's not love than I don't know what is."

But Maura leans her head back against the side of the van, trying to keep a fresh wave of tears from falling. "You didn't feel her. She was so confused. She was so scared," Something occurs to the doctor, and she sits up again, gasping a little. "And now she's on her own, out there. How will she-"

"She'll be okay," Frost says quickly, and then, with a small smile, "She's not stupid."

Maura looks at him gratefully. He grins at her. "And when you get back to her. When you're reunited," he nods as she looks doubtful, "when you're reunited...you'll explain to her, and she'll forgive you." He nods again like this is obvious. "Of course she will."

They fall silent for a while, listening to the engine underneath their feet, all of them lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm sorry," the doctor says into the silence, and both men look around at her. "I'm sorry that your lives are getting turned upside down because of this. If I'd known what was going to happen when I first saw her I'd have..." But she stops, unsure how to continue.

"You'd what?" Korsak asks wryly. "You'd never have gotten involved with her in the first place? C'mon Dr. Isles, we both know that that's a lie."

The doctor doesn't answer. She wouldn't have turned away. Not even if she'd known.

Korsak looks down at his hands. he opens and closes his mouth for a moment, like he's deciding.

"What I told Jane," he says finally, and his voice is so quiet that it's almost impossible to hear him over the hum of the engine. "When I took her out across the field..." He pauses again, and Frost looks up at him too.

"I was showing her where my son was buried."

For a moment, Dr. Isles thinks she's heard wrong. "Your son?" She looks at Frost, but he seems even more at a loss than she is. Korsak nods.

"When I first started the force…My wife Melody and I were going through a divorce… Our son was three and, I wanted joint custody. Melody wanted sole."

Maura knows where this is going before Korsak opens his mouth again, but she can't make a move to stop him. To tell him he doesn't have to.

"She'd met a really nice guy," she said. "And he was really great with Josh…" Korsak breaks off for a moment, working not to shed tears that he cannot wipe away.

"It wasn't a tape," Frost says quietly. "You were there when he flipped that car."

"Korsak nods, and his face is eloquent with pain. "He was so scared. He didn't know what was happening. They shoved him into that car and I…" one tear trails down the lined face, "I told him to fight."

The confession hangs in between them like a physical being, and now Maura knows why Korsak thinks she's done the right thing.

She leans forward as much as she can, hoping that her movements will make the older man look up at her. "You loved your son," She says. "You had no idea what he was capable-"

"I shoulda protected him. I should have fought Melody harder…" Korsak strains for a moment against the cuffs before giving up and slumping back. "If Beckett hadn't of died in that explosion I would have wrapped my hands around his neck and strangled him myself. For what he did to my boy."

Silence follows this.

Frost looks shaken and pale and he glances at Maura as if to say, "What can we do?"

Maura speaks, and when she does she is surprised to hear her voice come out strong and authoritative. "You loved your son," she says firmly, "And you're going to make him proud. Whatever they have planned for us. For Jane. You'll make him proud and you'll do the right thing. I know it. And Jane knows it."

And when Korsak looks up at her, he almost smiles. "You know," he says gruffly, "the last thing she said to us…or, sent to us, I guess you could say, Was that we should protect you. We should take care of you…"

He pauses, because Maura has gone pale at this new information. "But I don't think you need our protection at all. You're strong enough…even without an Invictu."

Maura nods, and the feeling in her chest is painful. "I don't need the kind of protection she meant," she says, when she can speak. "But I could use…some friends." And when she looks up at them, she feels as though she can read their minds. It's all written there in their faces.

"Of course," Korsak says at once. "Of course, Doc."

Frost smiles warmly. "You got it, Maur."

…

_For three days she does everything they tell her. She lifts the things they say to lift and she crushes the things she says to crush. They test her on a large scale, and she turns on SUVs and Tanks and, on one occasion, a helicopter. And they watch as she makes them move, and then flips them. _

_They test her on a small scale, watching her fit keys into locks without touching them_

_Guide marbles around mazes and through holes barely big enough to fit them. _

_They watch her dissect a beetle with nothing. _

_On the third day her hands start to shake. She ignores it. _

_On the morning of the fourth day, she wakes up and her pillow is red with blood. She wipes at her nose. She looks around the bare room. Empty except for her bed. One chair. _

_There is no one to tell. _

_By the time they come to get her, it has stopped. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't know the words for blood or for nose, and she would rather die than push anything to these people. _

_She knows the word for hurt, but she doesn't say it. _

_They make her set up towers of concrete blocks. Over and over in different formations. They stick her with several needles and take her blood, and then send her out to do the same thing again. _

_She does it all without protest. She doesn't make a sound. _

_Not even when she loses consciousness. _

…

Ian leans back in his seat, looking at her across his desk. Dr. Isles sits straight in her chair, eyeing him angrily.

"Do you know why I couldn't let you go?" He asks after a moment of contemplation.

"No," She says coldly. She has an idea, but she is not going to humor him in any way.

He sighs, "You have become so uncooperative since you met that thing," he says, and he smiles when her hands contract on the arms of her chair. "I'm sorry, " her says, not sorry at all. "_Jane." _

"You have her." It has been her suspicion since their return to DC, and the look on his face confirms her fears.

"Yes, we have her. And she's been so good and so compliant since you broke her for me. The Director is so pleased."

It takes everything the doctor has to remain calm. She does not reply.

"Anyway…As I was saying…Do you know why I haven't let you go like your accomplices? Special Agent Frost and Korsak are allowed, at least, a modicum of freedom, and yet I keep you locked up here in this frightful Army Base with me. "

She shakes her head, unwilling to play.

He leans closer to her, "Daniel Beckett was a genius," He says quietly, and she can't help but look up at this sudden departure. Ian continues, "He created a virus that could make a super human. An Invictu. Invincible."

"She's not invincible," Dr. Isles says before she can help herself. "She's not indestructible…Ian…Don't you hurt her."

And Ian laughs, cruel and low and completely amused. "You and she are cut from the same cloth, let me tell you. Don't hurt her, don't hurt her, _God, _It gets tiring." He runs a hand through his hair. "No, Doctor, you're wrong. Jane _is _indestructible. And Beckett figured it out just before he died. He would have figured it out sooner if he'd known of your existence. And if he hadn't come up short and needed to use Anthony Pazzeretti as a blood donor, he might not have discovered it at all."

He leans forward, "_you_ make her indestructible. Or at least, as damn near indestructible as a human is going to be. "

The doctor stares. "That's not possible."

Ian rolls his eyes, "Honestly, you're still on about what's possible? I would have thought that barrier broke a long time ago." He looks at her. "Beckett realized that with Jane bonded to Pazzerretti, she had less chance for heart failure. Less adverse side effects to prolonged strain. Fewer cardiac events. He pushed her further and further, and when she weakened, Tony would spend days with her. Initially he gave her blood, but after a while all she needed was closeness. Minimal physical contact and one on one cognitive stimulation….do you understand, Doctor?"

She does…but she does not.

"_The sharing of minds_," He breathes, "That's what fuels her now. Your blood in her ties her to you and it ties her to life. It strengthens her. Without you…she withers."

He leans back, and even as her brain struggles to keep up, she knows what he needs from her before he asks.

"I won't help you exploit her," she says through gritted teeth.

"Certainly you will," his eyes are dangerous. Out of control. "You will for the simple fact that without you, she will die. And without her, you will return to the sort of half existence in which you previously existed. Never fully connected to anyone…lecturing people on clarity of language and alienating anyone close to you."

It stings. Maura shuts her eyes against the tears that threaten, though she could not say if they are from anger, or from the realization that part of what he says is true. The truth is that she is desperate to see Jane. She looks up at him.

"You are the inhuman one," she says quietly. "Not her."

He shrugs, proving her point. "Do you want to see her?"

Yes. Yes. Yes. GOD. YES. The doctor clears her throat.

"Alright."

…

_Her body screams like it's on fire. _

_She's on fire. _

_Dying. She coughs and it is deep in her chest, pulled out of her like a hurricane. _

_Her face is wet. She tries to lift her eyes to wipe at her tears, but they feel heavy, heavy. She groans a little. She is dying. _

_"Maura." _

_At once, there are cool hands on her face, wiping away tears. There's a voice by her ear. "I'm here." _

_Jane is too tired to open her eyes. She wonders if she has gone to heaven or to hell. _

_Where do monsters go?_

_"sweet, sweet girl" the feel is warm like being held. Jane shivers as the hands slide up into her hair and then down, along the curve of her jaw. _

_The pain is subsiding already. If this is dying…It's not so bad. If her brain could just hallucinate Maura forever, she would live in this sort of half waking state for always. If these hands would stay. _

_Someone is speaking right by her ear. She knows that voice. Would follow it anywhere. _

_"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. forgive me." _

_What is there to forgive. She doesn't know. Jane turns into the voice. The unbearable heaviness of her limbs lessening. "I love you. I love you. Jane? Can you hear me." _

_She listens. Lost in the glorious warmth that the words are washing over her. She doesn't want it to be over. She don't open your eyes, because if she does, she is sure, this dream will surely end. _

_And she will be back to nothing. _

_She will be back to evil. _

_Back to being a monster. _

_…_

"What have you done to her. How could you."

"She'll be fine. You keep doing what you're doing and she'll be fine."

But Dr. Isles does not move back to the spare medical room where her Invictu lies sleeping. She stares Ian down.

"What happened to you to make you like this? What happened to make you care so little for any other life but your own."

And Dr. Faulkner looks back at her, unmoved. "You were like this once, Dr. Isles. Thinking only of your personal advancement."

"Not at the expense of _lives._" She yells, but before she can say anything else, He has crossed the room and smacked her hard across the face.

"You listen to me-" he says, and his hands close over her throat, backing her up against the wall. "You do not get to talk to me like that." He is cutting off her air. She can't breathe. "You are not the only person who loves someone, Maura Isles." He presses harder, and her vision is getting dark and fuzzy.

"You are-" But then Ian's face contorts in pain, and he is ripped away from her, like there is a tie around his stomach. He is thrown back, against the opposite wall and he crumbles to the ground, unmoving.

On the bed in the Med room, two brown eyes snap open.

…

Jane holds the Doctor around the waist, pulling her close to her. [they're coming] pushed through, angry and ready, and Maura has never been so relieved to feel anything in her life.

"Jane," She opens her mouth to explain, but the brunette shakes her head and the message is clear.

Later.

[Do what I say. Can you?]

Dr. Isles nods immediately. No hesitation.

[cover your face] urgent. And Dr. Isles does as she's told without question. Pressing her hands over her eyes and leaning into the brunettes shoulder. She doesn't know how she got there. She doesn't know whether she ran in, or if Jane pulled her, but there she is, In her arms. It's the first time she's felt safe in days.

She feels Jane tense, and almost immediately the ground underneath them begins to shudder. One, two, three. Quick like popcorn, the doors to the room are knocked off their hinges.

Maura feels Jane swipe the air in front of her, and for the third time in her life, the brunette makes a hospital bed flip into the air. She pushes it out towards the glass picture window, and it breaks it with a tremendous clatter. The sound is like a waterfall, like ten thousand china cups falling to the ground.

The doctor can't help it. She tilts her head to look.

Through the busted window and broken doors, comes the SWAT team. Fifteen, twenty of them, all armed, all wearing Kevlar.

They surround the doctor and the Invictu immediately. All of their guns pointed in. Maura feels herself get weak in the knees. Here is the very thing she wanted to avoid. Watching the woman she loves die.

"Jane!" Maura's arms wrap around the woman next her, "Jane…don't!"

"Yes," the voice comes from behind some of the officers, and after a moment, Dr. Ian Faulkner appears. "I would listen to the doctor, Jane." He holds up is hands, and the guns lower slightly. "I don't want to kill either of you. You're still valuable, even though we have enough information to replicate you if the need arises."

Ian looks at Jane. She points her finger at the officer closest to him and the man falls to the ground, writhing in pain.  
Ian raises his eyebrows, "four hours with Dr. Isles and you are almost full strength." He says, stepping around the fallen man. "How extraordinary."

"Get out." Jane's voice is low and raspy. She grips the doctor around the waist, tight.

"We had a deal, Jane," he says, and the doctor looks up at her, questioning. Ian smiles, "I don't want to hurt the person we…you love. So, be a good girl. Let go of the doctor and _no one_ needs to-"

But Jane leans down and presses her lips to the doctor's. She kisses her, and Maura hears Ian yell at the men to shoot, and she is aware of a sound like gunfire, rapid and consistent, but muffled. And she should be scared because they are about to die, but she is not. There is nothing but Jane.

Jane with her hands in her hair, with her lips on hers, kissing her and protecting her and saving all of the parts that she was sure were not worth anything.

And when she pulls away and looks around, they are surrounded by shell casings. Surrounded by bullet fragments and shell casings, and twenty or so cowering SWAT team members.

And they are untouched.

Jane pulls Maura closer to her, and the need comes quickly. Jane is panting, and not for the same reason that Maura is. The brunette is tired. [put your hands on my skin].

Another command that the doctor obeys without conscious thought, and the moment her fingers find the brunettes, the feeling is like a tugging all throughout her body. Gentle but needy.

[Alright? too much?]

She shakes her head. redoubling her hold, and Jane looks up at Ian. And she grins.

"Deal's. Off."

She reaches out into midair, though she might as well wrap her long fingers against Dr. Faulkner's throat, because when she pulls down, Ian's knees buckle. His face contorts in pain, and Maura hears Jane in her head just like Ian must.

[LET. THEM. GO.]

Ian convulses, "Let them GO!" he screams, and Maura looks at Jane, wide eyed.

[NO ONE IS TO STOP THEM.]

"NO ONE….STOP THEM."

Jane twists her hand once, and Maura feels the tugging increase. Like her very being is being drawn into the woman next to her.

Ian screams. "MOVE!"

The officers surrounding him half crawl half stagger out of the way, and Jane pulls Maura through the door.

[Out] the picture of a landscape flashing by. A bird against a bright blue sky. Freedom.

The doctor knows. She takes the lead. "Yes," she pulls Jane down to the right. "Yes. This way."

….…

They are almost off the base grounds when they hear the car. Maura hears it first and turns, like it's slow motion, to see the SUV speeding across the open space. Directly at them.

"Jane!" But even as the words leave her mouth, she seems to see it as Jane does. Close up, into the car, and Maura is staring at Ian Faulkner. Knuckles white around the steering wheel, and murder in his heart.

Maura starts to run, pulling at Jane's hand. The brunette doesn't move. She stands watching the car get closer and closer.

[Go.] a gentle push. [Don't watch.]

Maura gasps. She reaches out and takes Jane's hand. "NO! NO, don't you dare say that. Don't you dare kill yourself for me."

[He won't stop.]

But Maura rejects her feelings with almost as much force as Jane did four days ago. "I don't care. I don't care I can't live without you Jane. Not in the way that anyone is supposed to be living. Don't you get it. We were built for each other. You are me and I'm you and I can't…" But the car is less than a thousand feet from them, and gaining ground.

Maura feels panic like the urge to be sick. "JANE!" She cries.

And with one flick of her wrist and a gasp of effort…  
Jane flips the SUV over.

.

Ian's car lands on the concrete upside down with a sickening crunch, and the two women watch as it screeches another hundred feet before finally coming to a rest in front of them.

For ten shivering seconds, nothing moves. Nothing makes a sound.  
And then, the driver side door bursts out and skids away. And the bloody, mangled hand of Dr. Ian Faulkner appears.

"No!" Maura says, but neither of them moves. They watch as the man manages to pull himself half out of the car.

"MAURA!" He calls, and his voice is reedy. "MAURA. IT'S A MONSTER. DON'T YOU SEE NOW? IT'S A MONSTER. IT'S A MONSTER."

He's screaming. And as they watch, he pulls a gun from below him, and levels it at the brunette.

"I'LL SAVE YOU. I'LL SAVE YOU FROM IT," he cries.

And Maura can't see anything. She doesn't know if she's crying, or if she's yelling or if the screaming is just in her head.

"No, no, no Jane. Do it. Do it. DO IT [KILL HIM]

She grabs Jane's hand and feels the brunette pull everything from her that she has.

Jane screams.

The car in front of them explodes.

Maura passes out.

…

_She searches for a long time before she finds a house no one lives in. She doesn't know if they are on vacation or if this house simply has not been filled yet, but it doesn't matter. She glances around her in the darkness, feeling for anything that might harm them. _

_There is nothing. _

_She unlocks the door and pushes it open with her foot, careful not to jostle the woman in her arms. The house is one floor, laid out like a railroad car, and Jane carries the doctor through the narrow living room and kitchen before coming upon a bedroom. _

_She settles Maura down on the bed, pulling the one blanket up around her. _

_For a moment, she just looks at her, lying there, eyelids fluttering. _

_[I love you] she pushes sorrow and guilt and the kind of love that holds like a vice. [I love you]_

_The doctor stirs, her brow creasing. "jay," she murmurs, and one hand opens and closes around air. _

_Jane curls up next to her, closing her eyes against the tears that are threatening to fall. Maura's hand opens and closes again, and Jane takes the delicate fingers in hers and presses it to her chest, against her heart. _

_She snuggles a little bit closer, trying to do for Maura what she has just done for her. _

_"here," she says quietly. Wanting to give. Wanting to repair and heal instead of break and destroy and ruin. She presses her lips to the fingers and then puts them back against her heartbeat. _

_"I'm here."_

* * *

**So...**

**no more Ian then. **

ps. i know some of you hate when I scramble words...but it's the best representation I can come up with to show you how Jane interprets sentences. Hopefully now that she's a little more learned in verbal communication, it's not as confusing.

pps. I named this deal or no deal in my docs folder because I am full of puns.


	12. Savior

"_Dead?" _

"_Yes, Director. The Clean-Up team just finished recovering what was left of his body." _

"_What do the security tapes show?" _

"_The doctor wanted to run, Sir. But the Invictu turned…and…and flipped Dr. Faulkner's car. When he tried to pull himself from it, she took Dr. Isles' hand and she…blew it up…The SUV, I mean. She blew it up." _

"_She ended it."_

"_Sir?" _

"_She knew that Doctor Faulkner would not simply let her walk away. Not with the love of his life, and not when she was the greatest career advance he'd ever had. It was a double insult, and he would not have let go. So she ended it." _

"…_The media is waiting for a statement, Director, they want to know if this was an accident or a murder…terrorism…" _

"_The official statement is…ongoing investigation." _

"_Yes, sir." _

"_Director Charles Hoyt and his staff deeply regret the death of Ian Faulkner, and are doing everything possible to uncover the cause behind the SUV explosion…something like that."  
"Yes, Director." _

"_Oh, Alvarez," _

"_Sir?" _

"_It is time to get rid of Special Agent Frost and Vincent Korsak. Inform their detail that it is no longer…in our best interest that they survive." _

"_Inform the…But sir, they are our best bet for luring the Invictu back to base…I thought-"_

"_No. There was that possibility, certainly. I even would have bet on the fact…But it appears I was wrong. There's no need to hold them any longer. All of this will be over within the week, I should think. And it doesn't need to result in any more complications than absolutely necessary. You know that I am certainly not adverse to struggle, but carnage for the sake of carnage…that seems wasteful." _

"_I…I don't follow, Sir." _

"_The Invictu is ending it, Alvarez. She understands."_

"_Understands what?" _

"_That nothing but suffering can come from continued experimentation."  
"Sir," _

"_Have them killed. We don't need them, and if they live…we will have to kill them along with the Invictu and her doctor, and it will be very tiresome. Best get it over with now." _

"_And…how will we get to the Invictu, Sir? How will we find her?" _

"_We won't. She will find us." _

…

The doctor wakes to the feeling of two strong thumbs rubbing circles on her hips. Jane's hands (and she knows they are Jane's like she would know her own) hold tight around her, running in tight, soothing circles that send shivers throughout the doctor's body. Her touch is wonderful, like the refreshing feeling of sleep without actually being unconscious, and Dr. Isles is struck with the idea that she is being replenished. She is being fed.

But if that is the case…

"Nnnuh!" She tries to sit up and open her eyes, but the room spins and she closes them again, falling back. She shakes her head, trying to block out the feeling of being full. Trying to get away from it. The circles on her hips stop for a moment, and then continue, more insistent.

[it's alright. don't resist it] Jane. nearby.

She shakes her head, eyes still closed, working to make her mouth move over the syllables. "Can't…take from…you," she manages, angry at how lethargic her brain feels. "Love…"

A spasm of delight wrapped in disbelief and pain. [I'm fine. It's okay. We help each other] the thumbs on her hips press down, making her gasp in pleasure. She feels stronger at once. [it's okay. sleep.]

And the doctor is too tired not to give in.

…

When she wakes up again, she is alone in bed. She opens her eyes and sits up, taking stock of herself and her surroundings.

She feels better. Much better. She looks around at the room, trying to figure out where they might be. The bedroom is furnished, but empty of embellishments. A closet in the corner stands empty, three or four hangers on the rung.

Maura swings herself out of bed and stands up tentatively. She has the vague recollection of being carried. Of lips on her fingers and thumbs on her hips, and a rush of something intoxicating and sweet…exciting.

"Jane?"

The brunette answers quickly, and Maura makes her way through the house to the living room, where Jane is sitting inches from the TV, looking fascinated.

[What is this?] eyes wide, the taller woman pushes shock…maybe an undercurrent of fear.

Maura glances at the TV, which is on and turned to a news channel.

"It's a television. It's entertainment…and…news…" the doctor pauses, trying to think of how to explain a television.

[real?] confusion.

"The people?" Dr. Isles nods, "Yes…they are real people."

[here? in there?] complete and utter confusion, and the irony is not lost on the doctor that a scientifically enhanced human does not understand the intricacies of radio and television waves. [I can't feel them]

"They're not _here_. They're hundreds of miles away. Being filmed. And then what's filmed is transmitted into a television."

She feels the woman's confusion grow, and she sighs. "It's…complicated," she says, coming to sit next to Jane. "It's not dangerous…Where are we?"

[Empty house with no threat] is what the doctor gets in return. She frowns.

"What happened last night? Did I…pass out?"

A nod. An image of the doctor in her arms. A blurry view of streetlights. Fear and exhaustion.

"You carried me," she says, scooting a little closer to Jane. "You….you saved me."

[killer] She pushes the SUV blowing up, the image so stark and realistic that the doctor winces. But she reaches out and touches Jane's hand. Her fingers tingle.

"I told you to," she says quietly. "If you are a killer, than so am I."

But Jane waves her hand, and the TV goes dark. She stands, walking towards the kitchen, and when Dr. Isles moves to follow her, she growls.

"stay," harsh, with a bit of a push against the doctor's chest.

"No!" She struggles to her feet, following. She reaches out for Jane, but the taller woman pulls away.

[I hurt you]

"I don't feel hurt. I feel better than I have in a while."

[I took too hard. To blow up the SUV] and the doctor remembers the feeling of losing everything. Of a desperate sort of wrenching pull, just before the explosion. [I…] but there it is again. the flickering indecision. Jane turns away.

The doctor considers the woman in front of her for a moment, before moving forward to run her hands up the muscular back. The flash of lust. Of fear and of restraint and of _want_ that rush through her at the contact make her catch her breath.

"Jane," she breathes, leaning forward to put her lips on the shoulder. "Jane, look at me."

Jane turns hesitantly. And Maura stands on tiptoes to kiss her immediately. Pulling her into an embrace at the same time.

The kiss is electric. It scorches through the doctor in the best kind of way, and she can't help but push the brunette up against the counter, gasping a little.

The doors to the cabinets ripple on their hinges, opening and shutting with tiny bangs. Maura kisses down Jane's jaw to her neck, slipping her hands under the t-shirt. Sighing at the smooth skin that meets her hands.

The lights in the kitchen flicker.

[stop] firm, even if part of what pushes it is reluctance.

The doctor pulls away, looking up into dark brown eyes, made darker by lust. "Why?" She's panting and she doesn't care. The only thing she wants is to put her hands back on the woman in front of her.

And if the house is demolished in the process, the doctor thinks, so be it. "Tell me why." she says breathily, watching Jane's chest rise and fall rapidly, "Why should I stop, Jane?"

The brunette turns away from her, shoulders tight with the effort it's taking to hold herself back. She balls her hands into fists and places them on the counter. "You don't love me."

Something about hearing her voice, confirming the push of sadness and guilt, makes the doctor feel weak in the knees.

Jane glances over her shoulder, possibly taking Dr. Isles' silence for confirmation. She repeats herself. "You don't love me," she says, her voice rough and sad, "You are just inside," she pushes the diner. Maura's words hard and ringing in her head.

_You…You monster. Stay away from me_

The doctor feels herself start to panic. She reaches out, her hands hovering at Jane's waist, but not touching. "I lied," she says quietly, desperately. "I trusted you to only take what I pushed. I trusted you to keep your promise and I _lied_, Jane. You're not immortal… Ian was right there and-"

[I get it.] impatience. Sadness that is turning to anger [I understand]

"No! You don't!" The doctor's voice is high and loud. "You do not understand at all. What it was like to feel you…to hurt you like that…" She stops, closing her eyes. She feels Jane turn around and look at her. She keeps her eyes closed, putting her hands to her chest. "I couldn't watch you try to fight all those men." She opens her eyes. "You say that what you do doesn't hurt you, but it does. I know it does because I can feel it." She takes a step closer. Jane doesn't move. "You can't hide it from me, because it's inside of me too."

[I should take it from you] and she is less already, the feeling hollow and empty in the pit of her stomach. Without thinking she has moved forward and pressed herself against the woman in front of her, wrapping her arms around the slender waist, trying to hold on.

"Don't you dare," she says fiercely. "Don't you _dare_. I love you. I love you more than I've loved anyone…and maybe I've ruined what we had. Maybe you can't trust me anymore…but I couldn't watch you die for me. Not at the diner and not when Ian came after us. I _couldn't_. You have to hear that I did what I thought was-"

But Jane kisses her, hard and fierce, making the doctor moan, and all four burners on the gas stove nearby ignite. Jane waves her hand lazily, and they go out, but when she lifts that hand to thread it into the doctor's hair, they catch fire again. The soft click of the electric starter making her look around.

"Stop doing that," she says, chuckling.

But Jane pulls back and looks at her, eyes intense. [you're doing that] amused and honest.

"I am _not_." The doctor says, still smiling. "You're the telekinetic, remember?"

And Jane arches an eyebrow, all sarcasm already. [I am not so literal with my feelings] a round silent chuckle. A gentle teasing. Jane leans forward again, and Maura catches her breath.

"Watch," Jane whispers, and she catches Maura's lips with her own.

The kiss is like fire all through Maura's body and the gas stove ignites again with a woosh. Jane pulls back, satisfied.

The doctor gapes at her. "That wasn't me…was it?"

Jane shrugs, gesturing. "You…me," She waves a hand and the stove turns off again. "You _in_ me…the same…see?"

And Maura does not see, but it doesn't matter because at that moment she can think of nothing other than the way Jane has emphasized that sentence. She lets her eyes run up the muscular form in front of her.

_You. me. You in me. _

She can't think of anything but the uncharted territory of Jane's body. Of sliding her out of her jeans and her t-shirt and kissing every inch of skin. Claiming it.

"I want…" she starts, but when she looks up, she loses her words. Jane is looking back at her, expression dripping with lust, and she knows that she has been heard already.

"Me?" the brunette asks, and her eyes sweep Maura's frame. She licks her lips.

"God. Yes."

Still Jane hesitates. "Monster," she growls, but this time the growl is almost playful. Deep and sultry. She ducks her head, but does not take her eyes off of Maura.

The doctor flushes. "If you're a monster than I am one too," she steps forward. And Jane twitches involuntarily.

A lightbulb above her head shatters, but Jane lifts her hand, and the pieces of glass and filament stay suspended in the air, like a movie on pause.

Jane takes a step forward. "Doctor," she says, low and inviting. Maura moans, sure that the brunette is touching her, even though they remain more than a foot apart.

"Maura," Maura says. "When I'm with you I'm not a doctor. At least not the one I was. I'm whole and complete and Maura. And I'm all yours." She grins wickedly, "So come and claim me."

"Everything?"

A loaded question. Jane asks with her voice and her body and her mind, pushing a feeling that should be illegal because of how good it feels.

"Yes," Maura breathes, closing her eyes as the sensation wraps around her. "Yes. Come take me." she opens her eyes. Pushing how wet she is. How ready.

"Come take everything."

And Jane does not need any more invitation than that.

.

They do not make it back to the bedroom, and instead opt for the couch, and If Maura could focus on anything other than the long thin fingers that are pushing her higher and higher, towards a shuddering release, she would hear the ripping of each cabinet door as it is torn off its joints, falling to the floor with a clatter.

If she was not so full and so high and so god damn close, she would feel herself dropping the last of any resistance. She would feel herself offer everything up. She would feel Jane gasp and tense with her own climax, the surprise of new emotions and the depth behind them tripping her over the edge.

As it is, she does not register any of that. Jane's fingers curl against her and she moans into the shoulder flexing above her, falling languidly into her orgasm. The rug under the couch splits down the middle with a ripping sound, unraveling and fraying the same way Maura is coming undone.

She jerks and tenses and relaxes and then falls immediately into another. And the coffee table nearby splinters.

"God. Ohh…_God_. Jane."

She wants, and Jane is there before she's finished the thought. She wraps her arms around Jane's neck, finds the brunette's lips with her own.

"More," she breathes. Open, for the first time. She never wants to go back. "More. _please._"

Jane obeys.

…

When she opens her eyes, she is back in bed. She is pressed against Jane's side, and they are wrapped in a blanket. They are naked, legs entwined, and Jane's hand is stroking Maura's hair idly.

[hey]

Maura yawns. "What time is it?"

A shrug that makes Jane's body brush against hers. [night. I was going to wake you soon]

Maura sits up on her elbow, looking at Jane. She knows before the brunette starts to tell her.

"You're leaving."

Jane nods. [Frost] the image of the grinning special agent. [Korsak]

Maura sits up. "I'm coming with you."

[No]

"_Yes,_ Jane. Of course I am."

"No." Everything seems stronger when she speaks out loud. Jane rolls off of the bed and moves to the dresser for her clothes. Maura notices (with the hint of a blush) that two of the drawers are hanging, broken, and that one drawer is missing completely. She shakes her head, watching the woman she loves pull her t-shirt down around her ribs.

Maura frowns, "Do you know where they are? Do you know how you're going to get to them?"

Jane pushes an empty space, hollow and waiting, and Maura knows without being told that this is where Frost sits in her consciousness. [I'll find him.]

"Jane."

"_Maura_." The taller woman turns, jeans in her hand, t-shirt on, and Maura feels such a rush of affection and desire that she sits back on the bed, wrapping the blanket around her. It is not even close to Jane's arms. The brunette frowns at her, pushing guilt so ferocious it's molten. "No more dying for me."

And Maura understands that finding Frost and Korsak is just the beginning.

"Ian's dead, Jane." she says quietly, but Jane shakes her head.

[There are more than Ian.]

"But they don't know where we are. Where we're going. We could go anywhere."

But Jane bristles. She comes over and takes Maura's hand, and the dream she pushes threatens to swallow reality.

[I want more than running and hiding] fierce. A petite blonde woman and a tall lanky brunette. Hand in hand. [I want more than a hidden life, knowing that there might be others suffering what I suffered.] She pauses searching Maura's mind, before continuing. [I want to spare more fathers what Korsak went through] Maura looks up, eyes wide. Jane looks back, pleading. [I want a life. Guilt free. Safe] warm. Like summer and promises and forever.

Maura shakes her head, trying to reconcile her thoughts. But Jane kisses her hand. And she knows she would not deny this woman anything.

"Take me," she says quietly. Trying to show how much she needs it.

Jane shakes her head immediately, and the image is of Maura captured. Maura tortured. Maura broken and dead and gone.

And underneath that, more terrible than dead…is Jane's greatest fear. Maura shuts her eyes as it sharpens and becomes understandable.

[what if you don't love me]

The same words again. Harsh and hurting.

_You stay away from me…you. monster. _

Maura shakes her head passionately. "No. No. I love you" she pushes earlier. The way Jane had felt coming apart in her arms. The brunette in front of her flushes.

Maura nods, reaching out. "Take me with you. Let me help you." Those are the words she says, but what she wants is something different.

Jane cocks her head, confused at the discrepancy.

"help?" she asks quietly, confirming the word is the feeling. "help?"

Maura shakes her head, "No. No, I'm sorry…" she leans forward into Jane's side. And the arms around her contract.

"Trust," she whispers. "_Trust_ me, Jane. please?"

And Jane looks down at her. And she nods.

"Get dressed."

* * *

**Here's the thing. I originally outlined this at 15 chapters...I regrouped yesterday and it was 25...because apparently I am too long winded. So...that's happening now. **

**I'm trying to put the finishing touches on my third installment of JGMAR and WMM (I believe it shall be called Never Let You Down) AND...I have a couple one shots from The Moment verse that I want to put together into a little compendium called After...So...if you are not enjoying this, and you want other things from me. YOURE IN LUCK. if you were sad that this only had four more chapters. YOU ARE ALSO IN LUCK. if you are unhappy because you dislike my writing and you wish I would stop...what have you even gotten to this sentence? go ahead and..uh...read something else. I'm not the boss of you. **

**So that's what's happening. **

**I feel like here is where I should describe what it means to me that you find my fiction worthy of review. I read each one, and I literally cannot believe that you guys decide to take the time to tell me what you think. I...I know that thank you doesn't come close, and neither to the dozens of flailing gifs i upload to tumblr. I continue to feel awed and amazed and unworthy and in love with each and every one of you. YES I mean IN LOVE. the "pack up your belongings, we're moving to Utah so we can all be joined in a polygamus rizzles union" type of love. You all continue to AMAZE me every day. I cannot thank you enough.**

**much. much. love. **

**happy reading. **

**tc**


	13. Martyr

"_**How could you have missed this?" **_

"_**The cameras went down…uh…um…intermittently director. We didn't think it a big enough issue to bring to…to your attention" **_

"_**I see…So there's an Invictu running around the Base with two escaped prisoners, and her very own mobile power source, and you are just now…bringing this to my attention." **_

"_**I-we-they…I thought that…" **_

"_**Shut up. Where are they headed?" **_

"_**The west tower, sir." **_

"_**To destroy our research." **_

"…_**That seems the likely plan, Director." **_

"_**Get me my bag." **_

"_**Sir?" **_

"_**Get it. You want to question me tonight? You're lucky you're not dead." **_

"_**Yes sir, right away, sir…Thank you, Director." **_

"_**Come on, Alvarez. Let's go meet an Invictu."**_

* * *

…

They sit in the brush off the side of the main base road, Maura feeling at Vince's shoulder, Jane and Frost standing off to the side, talking quietly.

They'd managed to extract the men from the cell they were being kept in with minimal problems. Korsak and Frost are sporting some bruises, and Vince's shoulder looks worse for the wear, but neither of them are in immense pain.

"Shit's hard when you don't have an Invictu to fight off bad guys for you," Korsak grumbles. "You found us pretty quick," he looks up at her, and Maura chuckles.

"Shit's easy when you have an Invictu to fight off the bad guys for you," she mimics, and she hears Jane chuckle behind her.

"Touché," he says, grinning. "Thank you, Jane," he calls, and the brunette looks over at him, "for saving our lives."

Maura looks up at Jane as she looks at Korsak. She smiles fleetingly. "Wellhome." She says.

Maura smiles. "Welcome." She pronounces. "You're welcome."

Jane shrugs, looking away. She looks uneasy. But Maura does not have time to think about it now.

"It's dislocated," she says to Vince, and he winces.

"Not as young as I used to be," he tries to chuckle, but stops as pain surges up his arm. "Can you pop it back, Doc?"

Maura bites her lip. "ye…yes. I can. But then you should rest it."

[They can go home, then] Jane's idea, in everyone's head. Pushed a little forcefully. Korsak stares hard at Jane, and then at Frost.

The doctor frowns, like she knows what's happening. "I'm not going with them," she says immediately. "I'm going wherever you're going, Jane." Jane almost grins at her. There is no room for argument in the doctor's voice.

Instead she turns back to Frost. He is looking at her. Digesting.

She pushes please. He rolls his shoulders.

"It's fucking dangerous."

Jane nods, [I'll protect her]

But Frost looks a little mutinous at this. "It's not just about her, Jane. You know…people care about your well being too."

It is a bold statement, and they are both immediately uncomfortable. Jane looks away, trying to gather herself. She wants this young man to know he means something to her, too.

[You're like the brother I never had] Jane grins as Frost tries to hide his delighted smile. She's explained it all to him, what she needs him to do. He looks at her.

"You have a real brother, Jane," he says after a moment. "Two. And a mother and a father. You know that, right?" He looks at her hard, "You're not just some test tube experiment."

She looks at him sharply, but her face softens after a moment.

[Honorary brother then] soft. almost grudging in the revealing of feelings. [I know…thank you.]

Frost puts his hand on her shoulder. She pushes strength. She pushes brotherhood.

She pushes partners.

Frost's shoulders relax, "We would keep running with you, Jane." They both look to where Korsak is flexing his newly functional shoulder under Maura's hands. "She would run to the end of the earth with you."

Jane nods. She knows. Maura looks up at her and flashes a smile. "He'll be okay," she mouths.

Jane puts her hand on Frost's shoulder. She looks at him. [promise. Even if it goes wrong.] and they both know she means when. [promise] she pushes again. to cover up her pessimism.

He looks over at Maura, who is watching them both intently.

"I'll take him home, Doc," he says with a curt nod. Jane's shoulders relax. "You go with your woman here."

Maura looks away, flushing, and Jane takes the opportunity to lean in and whisper to Barry. Her voice is harsh and unyielding.

"No more running."

* * *

_He shoots her. _

_The Director takes three men, and they beat the Invictu and her doctor to the fifteenth floor of the West Tower. He gestures them to hide themselves. He orders them to think nothing, to make their minds go blank. They look at him nervously, and he rolls his eyes. _

"_The beast must not know that we are here. If you must think, then imagine yourselves home. Imagine yourselves calm and in bed. Anywhere but hiding here, waiting for her." _

_He orders the three men to picture themselves at home, and then he hides himself as well. _

_And when the two women open the door to the circular office room, the Invictu looks confident, and unafraid, and he knows he has the upper hand: the element of surprise. _

_And as she bends over the middle filing cabinet, looking for the right folder, he levels his gun and grazes her left thigh. Enough to tear the skin and send the doctor to the floor with the aftershocks of secondary pain. _

"_Jane!" _

_The Invictu spins, stumbling, and moves towards Maura, but the Director levels his weapon again and grazes her shoulder. _

_Jane stumbles and Maura curls on the floor, her own hand reaching out for her uninjured shoulder, and for a moment, Charles Hoyt marvels at the human brains ability to create connections. To show pain where there is no pain at all._

_The Invictu is Maura's phantom limb. And he plans to take full advantage. _

_Why not kill her? Why not fire once more and kill her dead now? The Director licks his lips. No. He wants to see the light leave her eyes. He wants to see her give in and give up. _

_He wants to dominate her and possess what she possesses. _

_He wants to make her suffer_

_Charles steps out from his hiding place, and when Jane spins on him, he empties the rest of his chamber, and although she stops each and every bullet, the combination of pain and effort, and the strain of the doctor's fear, bring her to her knees too. Charles reloads his gun lazily, as his men step out and pull Maura to her feet. Jane waves one hand, an angry half circle, and the officer on the end crumbles to the ground. She lifts her other hand, to dispose of the others, and the Director levels his gun and aims it at Dr. Isles head. He fires, and although the bullet drops to the ground like the others, it is inches from the blonde forehead forehead._

_Jane grunts. _

_The doctor whimpers. _

_Charles holsters his weapon and picks up his medical bag, advancing on the panting Invictu. He does not have to push very hard before she is on her back on the ground._

_He is going to fillet her. _

_One of the men holding Maura cocks a gun to her head, and Jane looks from the metal barrel of the weapon up into Charles Hoyts grey menacing eyes. _

_He puts his knee in the middle of her chest._

_He is going to own her. _

"_Hello, Jane."_

* * *

His mouth is by her ear. She closes her eyes and he fills her mind with pictures of her death. They are pushed through with such glee and such outright anticipation, that she cannot help the way her heart begins to race. He is good at it. Like he's been doing it forever.

"Everything I do to you, she can feel too." He takes one silver scalpel and traces the simian line of her hand. Jane bares her teeth, growling, not for her, but for Maura.

Hoyt chuckles, "You think you can withstand anything I do to you. You think you're biding your time until you can wipe me out...and I would say that was a solid plan…if you didn't have to think about her."

Without warning, without any further preamble, he thrusts the shiny silver instrument into the palm of her hand, all the way through to the floor.

The pain is white hot and immediate, surging through her entire body and making her convulse involuntarily. Her eyes snap shut and she bites her lip hard enough to taste blood.

She doesn't scream. She holds the howls of agony in the back of her throat like vomit, knowing that if she acknowledges the pain any more than is necessary, Maura will feel that much more pain. So she refuses. She will not give in.

But across the room, restrained by the guards, Maura screams. Screams and strains forward against their hands. "Jane! _Don't HURT HER." _

Charles Hoyt looks up as the doctor wails, her own left hand curling and uncurling with the phantom pain of her Invictu. Jane tries to fight the waves of aching and nausea, to find something comforting to send the woman she loves, but just as she begins to overcome it, just as she masters the pain, the Director slams her other hand back to the ground and slices through this palm too, and Jane is plunged back into the abyss of anguish once more. She jerks, her stomach straining and, her hands spread out, and this time, she cannot help the cry that gets pulled from her. It is hoarse and long, drawn out. And in the back of her mind that is not on fire, she can hear Maura echo her, her own sobs incoherent and staccato.

"Please. please. please. don't. oh. God. please."

Jane forces her eyes open, and she is met with the Director's slate grey ones. They are twinkling. "This is what it means to be with an Invictu," He says quietly, as Maura's whimpers die down a little. "This is what it means to be connected…to you, Jane" and he leans forward and drags his next scalpel across the tender skin of her throat.

Maura wails. The Director ignores her.

"It's the mistake that Ian made," his tone is conversational. Jane works to pick out the words through the haze of hurt and blood loss. She can hear feel her heart beat in her hands, feel the surge of blood out of her wounds with each pump of her ventricles. Charles looks down at her. "Ian thought hurting Maura was wiser than hurting you…" He stands up, looking around at Jane on the floor, unmoving. "But he was wrong. He was limited in his thinking. He thought he could prove to Dr. Isles that you were a monster. That your existence only brought her pain." He walks over to where the guards hold Maura steady, she doesn't look at him, she doesn't look away from Jane, pinned to the floor, immobile. [don't listen to him] desperate. Pleading.

"But it's not Maura we have to convince, is it Jane?" He pulls one last scalpel out of the inside of his pocket, holding it delicately. Like a treasure. "Maura is human. She is weak. She believes she loves you and she could never leave you."

In some part of Jane's mind. The part that is not focused entirely on pain management, She hears Frost. She can hear him talking to her.

[We're there. Jane? Korsak and I made it to the generator. We're just waiting on you]

She turns her head to look at Maura. Their eyes meet. [Jane please. I love you so much. Don't listen to him]

"But you're Invictu," the Director is still talking. He lays the scalpel against the pale skin of her doctor's throat. Something unpleasant turns over inside of Jane's chest.

"You're not stupid. You may not understand certain aspects of the world, but you understand what you are." He looks over his shoulder at her. "You understand why you were bred."

Jane reaches for her doctor, pushing loves so fiercely that Maura's eyes close. [Maura.]

And though her lips move faintly, she succeeds in responding without speaking. [Jane.] and it is both of them. Inside of her.

Hoyt narrows his eyes, "You were made to protect. To serve. To die so that humans could be spared." he presses the scalpel firmly to the throat of the doctor, "And if you live among them surely, _surely_…they will die for you." Jane feels the sting on her own skin as the metal draws blood. She forces herself to stay focused. She thinks only of saving her strength, building it. She doesn't look away from Maura. [Do you trust me?]

Green eyes snap open. They meet brown with a look that is both smoldering and defiant. [I trust you with everything.]

Jane closes her eyes, finding Frost. [Barry. You remember what I told you.]

The smallest hesitation, Jane waits. Breathing hard. The pain in her hands is all encompassing. She forces herself to ignore it. Finally. [yes.]

Hoyt pulls his scalpel back. Jane closes her eyes. [Count it off]

In her head, she feels Barry breathe. [10]

Jane shifts her focus. "Hoyt," she growls it. Her mouth doesn't fumble over the unfamiliar word. "Hoyt. Don't you touch her."

[9]

He looks back at her with wide malevolent eyes.

[8]

"But that's the point isn't it, Jane?" He grins. "I don't have to touch her. Not when I have you."

[7]

Jane growls again, but directs her focus at Maura. [I love you.] And she pushes the doctor in her arms, naked in bed together. She pushes Maura's smooth hands on her face in front of Korsak's ranch house. She pushes two curios green eyes outside of an observation room. [I love you.]

Frost is counting down. [6…5…Jane?]

Maura's chest rises and falls rapidly now, and when she responds, the most prominent feeling is one of fear. [I love you. Stay with me. Jane. Please.]

Jane closes her eyes. She pushes reassurance like arms. She pushes the beach and a blonde with no shoes on. A tall lanky brunette hand in hand. she pushes love. She pushes always.

Frost again. getting closer to it. [4. Jane. you're remarkable. And you're human. You are a human. Don't ever let anyone tell you different…3]

Frosts words bring a wave of tears to her eyes, but she pushes them away, pulling on her anger. Pulling on Maura's pain, and the guilt of her suffering at Jane's expense.

[2]

And Jane pulls. She pulls up and the scalpel slides all the way through her hands. And she doesn't scream. But Maura does. They both feel the tendons in her hands rip. They both feel her hands slick with blood.

But Jane ignores it. She swipes her hands around hard, a semicircle across her body and the guards that are holding Maura are tossed away like they're made of straw. They fly through the air and hit the windows with a bone shattering crash.

Hoyts eyes get big. He lifts the scalpel.

But Jane looks up. She meets his eyes. She pushes out with one hand and pulls with the other, and Hoyt is thrown back. Against the wall, and Maura is dragged forward, into her arms.

"I win."

[1]

The explosion that Frost and Korsak have set off starts in the basement. It roars up the stairs and the elevator shafts, consuming everything in its path.

It blows out windows and shatters doorways, climbing and climbing, seeking the top floor and the Director and the Invictu and her doctor with an oddly sentient flare, and Jane pulls her doctor to her and kisses her. Kisses her as the flames wrap around them both, hot and oppressive and taller than both women.

Jane kisses Maura and wraps her blood red hands around her waist for the space of a second. She whispers, her breath hot on Maura's ear. Like smoke.

"Be strong"

And Maura screams, she reaches out for her Invictu, too late, as Jane pulls her to one of the shattered windows and throws her out of it, into the night.

…

* * *

…

Maura Isles awakens with a gasp, sitting up. She blinks and blinks, trying to make the world that is spinning around her slow down and come into focus, but it is hard. She is sitting on a patch of ground, the grass damp underneath her jeans. She has no shoes on. She tries to stand up, taking stock of herself as she does so. Her last memory is of being thrown out of a window fifteen stories off the ground, but she feels no broken bones. Nothing is bleeding. She straightens up, calling. [Jane?]

Nothing answers.

A siren blares suddenly, making her stagger backwards, and the streak of a red fire engine speeds by her.

Fire. There had been a fire…there had been. Maura's eyes go wide. "Jane!" She cries, and she steps out onto the road, looking in the direction the fire engine has gone.

The main tower on the base is engulfed in flames. Even from this safe distance, the doctor can see the orange tendrils as they lick at the sky.

Jane had known the explosion was coming. She had planned it. She had…

"_NO!" _She starts to run, back towards the building, back towards the fire and the officers who are dragging bodies out of the rubble. "No. No. No. Jane!" She's calling and calling, and even as a rational part of her understands that no one is going to answer, she cannot stop.

"Jane!" She gets within 500 feet of the scene, when two strong arms close around her waist.

She panics, lashing out. Think wildly of Hoyt…or Ian. "NO. Jane! No!"

But it is not either of them. It is Barry Frost.

He grabs her around the waist and he drags her back, off the road and in to the scrub brush near the side. "Shh, Maura, shhh. Be quiet."

She spins, ready to hit him, and Korsak is there too, looking sooty and grim. "You alright, Doc?"

No. Something inside of her is breaking, is gone. It's like a bone shattering.

"Jane!" it's all she can say. "She didn't…she didn't get out…she's still in there…she…"

But the looks on their faces says it all, and Maura stops talking…staring at them, dumbfounded.

"Maura," Barry tries, but she turns back to the scene, to the fire engines that are pumping gallons of water at the smoldering building.

With a flash of hurt that is like physical pain, Maura thinks of the last message Jane pushed. The two of them. Together on the beach.

_Be strong_.

"Dr. Faulkner and the Director are dead," Korsak says quietly. "Any evidence of Invictu has been destroyed in that fire."

Including Jane.

The doctor holds in a sob.

Korsak comes to stand next to her, looking at the wreckage. "We're safe now."

Maura shakes her head. She cannot comprehend. What is she supposed to do now? Return to her job as if nothing happened?

Move on?

Nowhere is safe without Jane.

"Maur," Barry tries again, but the doctor raises her hand, unwilling to hear what he has to say. But she doesn't protest when he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her away. She doesn't ask where they are going, or what will happen to her. She doesn't care about any of that.

She is empty.

Jane is gone.


	14. Miracle

_The October morning is grey and chilly, and the squat apartment buildings flash in and out of sight like an old fashioned movie. _

_There is no one else in the entire subway car except for a mother and her young son down at the other end. _

_She's not sure what time it is, but the sun is not up yet, and the mother is dozing against the subway window, her son held firmly between her knees, standing up. Unlike his mother, the little boy is wide awake. He strains against his mother's knees reaching out for a quarter on the floor of the subway that slides further and further away with each jostle of the train. _

_She watches him struggle, reaching out as far as his short little arm will let him, but his mother frowns without opening her eyes, reaching her own hand out to pull him back, locking him more securely between her knees. _

_She is too far away from the duo to hear what the mother says to her son, but it makes his round little face go grumpy and resigned. He slumps down between his mother's knees, his head, resting on her thigh in a perfect imitation of dejection. _

_She chuckles, and with a tiny curl of her index finger, she lifts the quarter into the air. At once the little boy's head shoots up. He glances at his mother, and from her seat, she can see him consciously make the decision not to wake her. His head swivels back to the quarter, and with a little jerk of her finger, she makes it bounce a little. like a ball. _

_His eyes meet hers suddenly, and she grins at him, the cheshire cat. He gawks, and she makes the quarter zoom into her outstretched hand. _

_And he is a child. A little human boy, under five years old, who still believes in magic, or she would not reveal herself. He looks deep into her eyes, and for a second she feels whole again. she feels the connection that comes with bringing someone else joy. _

_She smiles at him, holds out her hand palm up, raising her eyebrows to show that he should do the same. He does at once, a look of eager anticipation on his face. _

_out of the window behind him, the top of a ferris wheel. The wooden curve of a roller coaster. The end of the line. She can either get off here, or ride it back to the other end. _

_Again. _

_The little boy makes an impatient noise, and jerks her thoughts back inside the car. She grins and makes the quarter loop twice, before settling gently in his little hand. The boy bounces in excitement, his chubby fingers closing over the shiny circle protectively. He looks back up at her, eyes round and wide and reverent. She smiles again, standing as the subway comes to an end. She waves at him over her shoulder, and he waves back as she slips out the doors onto the platform before his mother can do more than stir sleepily. _

_The air outside the subway is cold. She knows the seasons. She understands that she will need to find a coat. An actual place to stay. Someplace warm. She'd stayed at a women's shelter outside of Baltimore. The half healed scar running down her chin into her shirt, served both as admission ticket and protective blanket. She got new clothes, a good pair of boots, several nights of uninterrupted sleep. And no one asked her questions. They tsked and called her poor dear. Her silence was taken as fear. Perhaps an abusive boyfriend or husband. _

_She read what she could of their thoughts. _

_She let them believe. _

_The boardwalk is empty, which makes her relax a bit. It must still be very early. The sky is still grey like slate, but lightening all the time. _

_Her boots make a long hollow sound on the wood underneath her feet. It's just another place in a long list of places she's been but she can't shake the feeling that being here brings her closer to her doctor. She scans the little shops, still covered in their chain grates, and then looks the other way, out to the ocean. _

_Even in October, even in the industrial glare and backdropped by such outrageous commercialism, it is beautiful, rushing forward and then falling back. Even and measured. _

_She sighs. She balls her hands up. She pulls her sweatshirt closer around her, and she thinks of Maura. _

_..._

_Maura. _

The doctor opens her eyes, but does not move. Her name is still ringing in her ears, like someone has whispered it into her ears.

She looks around her bedroom, but no one is there. It is just her. Like always.

Six months.

It has been six months since all traces of the race of super humans called Invitcum was wiped away. Six months since the doctor found out that she is not only a failed Invictu, but that she shares a strong and strange connection with the only surviving specimen.

Shared. She shared a connection.

Six months since she fell in love with her Invictu. one hundred and 184 days since Jane sacrificed herself to give the doctor, Barry Frost and Vince Korsak a shot at a normal life. As if any of their lives could be normal without her.

Dr. Isles shakes her head, trying not to wallow in self pity. She sits up and reaches automatically for the light switch on the wall near her head.

She flicks the light switch on, and then off, and on again, and when she sits very still and silent, she can hear a car engine rumble into life down on the street. She smiles despite herself, listening as Barry Frost guns the engine of his police car once before screeching off down the block. She still thinks he'd requested New York City because he knew that's where she was going.

Though she still cannot completely forgive him for his part in Jane's self sacrifice, she is comforted by this little routine they seem to have fallen into. He comes by every morning at the ends of his rounds, to check on her, and as soon as he sees her bedroom light come on, he heads off.

At first it had made her uncomfortable, as she was sure he was acting on some dying wish of Jane's, but he hadn't stopped, and now...well she hates to admit it to herself, but it's a little like Jane is looking after her too...through him.

The doctor tries her hardest to push this thought when it comes. It is irrational, and she doesn't have the time or the space in her mind to deal with irrational things.

With Dr. Faulkner and the Director dead, there was nothing stopping either Frost or Dr. Isles from going back to their previous assignments. In fact, Tufts had offered the doctor Ian's old job.

She'd declined.

She'd picked up and moved to New York City. She bought a handsome brownstone on the upper west side, and gotten a job as the head of the trauma center at St. Luke's Roosevelt Hospital on 57th street.

On the days when she is trying to deceive herself, she is almost able to convince herself that she is better suited for New York, and that her medical prowess and cool head are better suited for an ER in the city. That this is why she moved. Why she could not return to Boston.

On days when she does not have the energy for pretense, she knows that she is in the city because it is close to Jane's family, and there is something settling about that, even if they never knew the woman she knew. On days when she cannot pretend, she knows that she is scanning every face that comes through her emergency room.

She is looking for Jane.

The doctor's alarm comes on, jerking her back to the present. She slaps at the snooze, and focuses on trying to recall her dream. She'd been...on a train...or in a subway? Dr. Isles closes her eyes, trying to remember the rest, but the images are hazy, like half of a memory, and all that comes back is a shiny silver coin, a quarter maybe, suspended in mid air, and the top of a ferris wheel...but where? She rubs at her eyes. London? There's a ferris wheel in London, but this one hadn't looked...

The doctor shakes her head, pushing the covers back, stretching her feet over the edge of her bed. Something small and hard falls from her sheets onto the bed. Dr. Isles bends down to pick it up, and her heart speeds up a little, though she could not put her finger on why, exactly.

She is holding a shiny silver quarter.

...

_It is windy. _

_She watches the shops start to open up. _

_When the man selling water and hot pretzels isn't looking, she lifts one of each out of his cart, walking away quickly. _

_The pretzel is hot and the water is wet, and she eats them both without complaint. _

_She rolls her shoulders, and puts her hood up. _

_She got to the city yesterday. She should not have come, should not have followed the invisible pull that drags her towards the doctor like a magnet. She should run in the opposite direction. She should hitch a ride to the other end of the country. _

_But she looks out at the ocean, stretching away from the beach like a great green blue blanket. _

_And she finds she cannot go anywhere. _

_Her heart beat is all for one thing. It tied her to life through months of pain and suffering. Through hospitals and confusion and nausea and pain, pain, pain. _

_There had been so much pain. _

_She puts up her hood against the wind. She listens to the waves. _

_..._

The doctor cannot get warm. She leaves her jacket on underneath her lab coat and nods to the security guard at the door as she swipes her card through the reader.

"Mills," she says, her voice clipped and professional.

"Doctor," she's not sure he knows her first name. Or her last name for that matter. She's is definitely sure she doesn't care. She does not want to get to know anyone.

The residents are all at the front desk, talking amongst themselves when she walks up, and when the young man who is facing her glances up and sees her walking towards them, he nudges the girl next to him and mutters something.

The muttering, whatever it is, spreads like wildfire though the little group and as she nears them, she is just able to make out what they are saying before the warning dies.

_ice queen...ice queens is coming...whoo, cold in here._

It would almost hurt if it didn't make her feel so god damn mad. She's not sure if her anger is directed at the residents, these _children_, for presuming they know anything about her, or if it is directed at a more vague type of indignity, in that no matter the city or town or hospital, no one seems to be creative enough to branch out.

"Ridiculous," she says now, loud enough that they can hear her. And it is more than a little satisfying that they all look terrified, regardless of what they might say behind her back.

"Sorry?" Says a mousy looking little girl on the end. Girl. The doctor is aware that she can't be too much older than this woman, but right now, with her big terrified doe eyes and her long brown hair, she doesn't look any older than fifteen.

"I said, it's ridiculous," Dr. Isles says, turning so she can address them all, "that I can see by the board that at least four bays are occupied, and yet you have all found time to sit and chat about your weekends and your feelings." Her voice is cold and mocking. She barely recognizes it.

Six months.

"Oh...I-I-I'm sorry, Dr. Isles," the girl stutters, and the doctor thinks she really should learn their names, if only to make it more efficient when she yells. "Bay two and three are all set, just waiting on ins. information, and bay-um-bay- um seven...they, like, want to speak to an attending...and that's, like, you."  
Dr. Isles rolls her eyes. "They- um - like - they - um?" She mimics now, and a boy on the end sniggers. "Is that how you talk to your patients? No wonder they want to speak to an attending," She turns away, mostly because she does not want to see the way they are about to trade looks.

"Double check the vacated rooms, and make sure that two and three have signed all the necessary forms. No more debacles like last weekend," she says without looking over her shoulder, and she can hear them scurry away. They fear her. Good; they should.

She takes a deep steadying breath before pulling the curtain back on bay seven. She fixes her face into what she hopes is a pleasant, professional smile.

"Hello there, my name is Dr. Isles, I'm the head trauma surgeon here. What can I do for you today?"

A woman turns to her, and when she moves, the doctor can see that she's holding tight to the hand of a little boy. He can't be older than four. He stares up at her with wide brown eyes.

"Dr. Isles, thank you for coming to see him. This is my son James. He was having trouble breathing..."

Indeed, James' breath does seem to be coming a little fast, but when his mother lifts him up to the examination table, the doctor can see that it is nothing to be worried about.

"James has asthma?" She asks, affixing her stethoscope into place.

The mother nods. "I took him to Coney Island this morning. I promised him we could walk along the beach for his birthday. And then I dropped him at his preschool. But when I got off the train there were all these messages to come back...James couldn't breathe, his little lips were blue..." Dr. Isles tunes the woman out and listen's to the little boys heart. It beats steady in his chest. There is minimal rasping, but even as she listens, it's fading.

"...and by the time I got there, the ambulance had taken him here...and I didn't trust those children who saw to him when we first-"

"James, did they give you anything in the ambulance?" Dr. Isles does not even realize that she's cut his mother off.

"Yes," he says clearly. "I puffed on some things for ev er," he swings his legs. "Can I go home now?"

The doctor smiles distractedly. "In a moment...unzip your jacket for me please."

He does as he's told, revealing a bright orange t-shirt underneath. Maura glances at it, and then finds she cannot look away.

She's looking at a ferris wheel.

She's looking at the ferris wheel from her dream.

"...It's because that god damn daycare lady is always smoking. She knows that this boy cannot be around-"

"Where is this?" Dr. Isles is not any more aware of her social faux pa this time around than last. And she spins the little boy on the table to face his mother. "This ferris wheel? Where is it?"

The mother frowns, first at the doctor and then at her son.

"Cone Island," the little boy says quickly, grinning. "My favorite place in the oon na verse. I love tha beach."

The beach.

The doctor whole body feels numb. "How do you get there? Is that near here?" She does not care if she sounds crazy, and judging by the way the mother looks at her, she must.

"Um...the orange line, usually," says the mother carefully. "Dr. Isles? My son?"

But the doctor is already turning away. "He is fine. Water...no exertion for the next 24. He's fine. Get him a pump to carry on him...I have to go." She is already out of the bay, pulling off her white jacket. The two interns at the desk look up at her curiously. They have never seen her leave in the middle of the day. Not in the months that they've known her.

Six months.

"I'm leaving!" She says, unnecessarily.

"Oh-okay..." says one intern, a man with blue blocker glasses. "When will you be-"

"I don't know. I don't _know_." She is breathless. She is almost to the front of the ER when she hears someone call her name.

"Dr. Island! Dr. Izzles!" She spins and it is the little boy...James.

She doesn't know what makes her stop. He catches up to her, holding out his hand. "Can take this...for making me breathe better? It's magic anyways. promise." He holds out his hand, and Dr. Isles feels the floor spin underneath her.

He's holding out a shiny silver quarter.

...

_She's here. _

_The brunette doesn't move. She closes her eyes and she tries not to cry at the way her body seems to relax. Like she's been pulled and pulled and finally the vice that's holding her has begun to loosen. She doesn't turn her head, just stays on her bench. _

_Her doctor is here. Of course she is here. It was only a matter of time. _

_She looks down at her hands, scarred and half useless. She runs one long finger over the scar on her neck. Thinking of the ones that mirror it. _

_What could that woman want with her now. Not a human. Not a hero. _

_Not anything. _

_A tear slips out from under dark eyelashes, instantly cold in the wind. She should get up and she should move. She should not be seen. _

_She can feel her doctor getting closer the way one reels in a fish on a line. And what could she give that woman now, besides disappointment and heartache. A thief and a beggar and so horribly, horribly ugly. _

_She should run. But she doesn't. She stays on the bench, and she waits. _

_..._

The doctor rides the subway. She passes the man selling water and hot pretzels.

Her heels click hard against the boardwalk, and she stops, breathing heavily, looking out at the ocean.

What had Jane said, before dropping her to safety out of a window. _Be strong. _

What was the last image that she pushed? A beach. two women. hand in hand. The doctor moves to the railing that separates the boardwalk from the sand...she looks up towards the wooden roller coaster. the strip of beach is empty.

"Jane," she says quietly. and for the first time in 184 days, she reaches out. "Jane? were you here?"  
She feels foolish and hopeful and sick and settled at the same time. "..._Are_ you here?" She can barely summon the willpower to hope for it. "_Where_ are you?"

She turns her head, and looks down the beach.

There, sitting on a bench, not facing her: one narrow, slanted frame. Long, dark, windblown hair.

"JANE!"

She's running. And the heels she has on are not conducive to sprinting up a beach, and so she kicks them off.

And the jacket she's wearing whips in the wind behind her like a parachute, slowing her down, and so that has to go too. She's running and yelling and praying that she doesn't wake up. That this isn't just one more dream that's going to end with her in her bed, pillow wet and alone, sobbing out to no one.

All those nights. more than one hundred of them. crying and hoping. giving up hope. trying to move on. failing.

feeling empty. feeling nothing at all. being called ice queen, and doctor roboto, and heartless bitch, when the real truth was that her heart was beating _inside _someone else. Someone who didn't even have the decency to come directly back to her.

And then the bench is ten feet away from her. And the woman turns, and stands.

And it's Jane in the eyes and the hair and the height. Jane in the way the arms wrap around her and pull her close.

Jane in the way that she is finally breathing. Finally home.

And Maura pulls back from the embrace. She looks into two dark beautiful eyes that she thought she'd never see again, wet and sad and happy and scared.

Maura pulls back, and slaps Jane hard across the face.

* * *

**You guys think that I would write a character death? I thought ya'll knew me...*shakes head*  
anyway, if you're confused that's okay. the next chapter will have a lot of your questions answered. INCLUDING YOURS GUEST ABOUT HOW JANE KNEW ABOUT THE SEX IF SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TV WAS. that gets answered explicitly...so if you're still reading...just read one more chap. lol.**

Love you guys. even in your rage.

**happy reading**

**tc**


	15. Memory

Maura stumbles backwards, holding her own face, swearing under her breath, and Jane stumbles backwards too, her face more surprised than hurt. Maura's hand stings and her face stings, and she is so mad and so relieved and so mad that she can barely see straight. She straightens up and looks at the woman in front of her, and immediately she gets tears in her eyes.

"Jane," there does not seem to be anything to say besides that. The brunette stands in front of her, tall and windswept and pale. Hands in her pockets, now that the doctor has pulled away. Maura takes a step forward and Jane takes a step back, looking wary.

"No, don't…I won't …I just…" she reaches out, and Jane cocks her head, looking at the doctor's hands. "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought you were dead." As she says it, the anger returns like a wave, washing away the apology she'd been ready to give. Her hands curl into fists.

"No!" she says, like Jane has argued with her. "How could you do that to me?" She stares into the pale face, waiting for anything, any emotion at all.

Nothing comes. Jane stands still, eyes on the ground.

"Jane?" Her immediate panic that the other woman can't hear her is dismissed when brown eyes flick up to her own. She stands up straighter, spacing out her words in case she did not make herself clear the first time. "How…could you…do that to me?" She takes a step forward. Jane holds her ground. "How could you make me believe that you were dead? How could you stay away for six months? Have you been here this whole time? How could you…how…" But she cannot hold onto her words any better than she can hold onto her emotions. Every time she hones in on anger, it slips into grief, and when she gathers her grief around her like a coat, it unravels back into anger. She looks up at Jane, replaying each day in her head. Each morning waking up without her, each night falling asleep alone, and the brunette takes a step towards her hands out. "Maura," spoken and couched in apologies and guilt.

The doctor wipes angrily at her eyes. She doesn't want to cry. She will not.

"How could you do this to me, Jane?" not much more than a whisper this time. " I waited and waited for you. I convinced myself that you weren't gone, that you were just…waiting until it was safe. And then…when it wasn't just weeks, but months…_months _Jane…I finally had to…had to" Jane steps towards her and again but she pulls away. "NO! Couldn't you feel how much I was hurting? Did you feel anything at all? Did you _care?_"

Jane shakes her head, but the answer in Maura's head is complicated and overwhelming. It flickers and resets itself, trying to form something coherent. [I…I couldn't…I was…I had to wait until…I was trying….to…] Desperation. A shock of pain from Maura's elbows to her wrists.

For a moment, they stand there looking at each other. Maura tries to read Jane's expression. The way she stands like she's made of glass. The way her eyes sweep Maura's frame over and over, like she can't get enough of her.

"Did you even miss me?" Juvenile sounding, nothing she would ask if she could gather any of her pride.

[Every second of every day.] pushed through like tears, like the tearing of a ligament.

Maura takes a step closer. "Are you here now?" she holds out her hands. "Are you here to stay?"

For a moment, Jane says nothing.

Maura amends her statement, knowing that she shouldn't compromise like this, unable to stop herself.

"Will you come home with me? Jane? Please? Come home with me now."

And the Invictu nods, and Maura reaches out to touch her. To bring her into her arms again. To put her head in the bend of her neck.

To cry.

Finally.

* * *

…

_The pain is what wakes her, not the yelling. _

_Above her, there are several people, all screaming different things, all asking her different questions. Can you hear me? What's your name, honey? Can you say something for me? _

_Her eyes move over all of them, all surgical masks and creased eyebrows. _

_All of them are doctors. Not one of them is her doctor._

_Pain swings around her head like a wrecking ball. She moans. _

_Blood pressure is bottoming out. _

_I'm losing a pulse. _

_God damn it…this is the only survivor that got pulled out of there, right? Where are the paddles? Can you hear me, hon? Stay with us. _

_Jesus, look at the way this burn pattern goes. How in the hell…_

_CLEAR. _

_It's like she was wearing a tattered flame suit. Protected her like a zebra…_

_CLEAR. _

_No pulse. I don't have a pulse. Charge to 350. _

_But the brunette focuses on dead. She stops everything. She will not wake up attached to tubes and strapped to a bed. She will not repeat the past. _

_She will not wake up…She will NOT…_

_She… _"Jane?" the brunette starts awake in the back of the cab to see Maura looking at her nervously.

She nods, running her hand over her face. When she opens her eyes, Maura is still looking at her hand, frown deeper. And Jane shoves her hand back in her pocket. The doctor shakes herself, "We're here," she says, and she pushes open the taxi door and heads up the stairs of a handsome house.

Jane follows her slowly, shaking the last of the sleep from her mind.

.

Maura unlocks the door to her brownstone, feeling Jane shifting nervously behind her.

"It's alright," she murmurs, trying to keep her voice soothing. "No one comes here but Barry." She smiles at the way Jane's face brightens a little. "Yes," she says, "He checks up on me often… you told him to, didn't you?"

But Jane shakes her head, opting for speaking, "I told…be safe."

"You told _him_ to be safe," Maura says automatically, and Jane rolls her eyes good naturedly, following her into the front hall.

"Yes, doctor," she says lowly, and Maura shivers.

The house is beautiful and rich in a subtle, understated way. Jane wanders into the living room as Maura heads into the kitchen.

"I'll make tea," she calls, watching through the doorway as Jane inspects her bookshelf, and then her TV. She waves her hand and the TV flickers on.

Jane frowns and waves her hand again, turning to the couch and sinking into it with a little sigh.

Something stings suddenly at the base of Maura's spine. Like an old bruise. She hurries into the living room, coming to sit down next to Jane on the couch.

One tired brown eye opens to survey her. The sting comes again, muted.

"You're in pain," she says quietly, noticing how Jane's shoulders have stiffened with her position. The realization makes her both nervous and confused. She can't feel any of it. "You're in pain," she repeats, "why can't I feel it?"

Jane glances at her, and then away. [It's not so bad.] But she starts to roll her shoulders and they hitch in the middle, and Maura feels a burst of something sharp, like fire, between her own shoulder blades. Her gasp is one of pain that turns to understanding.

"You're keeping it from me." Accusatory, the anger of the afternoon flaring back immediately. "You're keeping whatever is hurting you away from me."

Jane shakes her head, but she winces, and the doctor feels another burst, hard like someone has punched her, at the base of her skull.

She jumps up, pointing a finger at the skinny woman on her couch. "You are!" she cries, and Jane's head jerks up to look at her. "You total selfish, uncaring…" She waves her hands in front of the brunette, trying to find the words that will convey the depth of her anger, and Jane watches her, wide eyed.

"Does the way I feel for you mean nothing?"

Jane frowns. [What are you talking about?] Confusion that is pushed through with a little anger of its own. It only spurs Maura on.

"All I want to do is share with you, to be with you. I don't care if it hurts, I don't care if all you push at me for the next three weeks is fear and confusion and pain. I don't care what you're sharing with me, Jane, as long as you are sharing something." The doctor turns away, her hands in her hair. "I can't be the only one in this that _cares_."

But Jane stands up too, her own anger like coals underneath Maura's skin. "I care," she says out loud, forcefully. "I _only_ care for you."

Maura whirls, her laugh is high and mocking, the way she would laugh at an intern who can't find a vein for an IV. "You would have come back right away," her voice is rising. "You would have come back and let me…let me…" She breaks off here, even though she knows that Jane hears the end of her sentence. You would have let me hold onto you.

Jane shakes her head, rejecting the idea. Rejecting the doctor. [I was trying to protect you.]

Maura fixes Jane with a glare that could kill. "You were protecting yourself," She spits, and Jane's eyes go wide. "You were only thinking of yourself, you believe the warped image of what you are, of what you were bred to be, that invades your head. If you'd been protecting me, if you'd even been trying, you would have known that I would have rather died in that fire with you, than wake up every morning feeling like…feeling like…"

"No more people dying for ME!" Jane slams her hand down on the coffee table. White hot needles poke at the doctor's skin.

"Jane," she says, moving forward.

"No more people giving and giving to only get back pain," She turns away from Maura, "No more people I love…dying."

"_Jane_." The taller woman doesn't answer. Maura sighs.

"Tell me why you left me," she says it quietly. No heat. "Can you tell me why you left me there? Please."

And the Invictu spins. She takes Maura in her arms and she presses her forehead into the crook of the doctor's neck.

And Maura takes a breath that is like diving underwater.

And she disappears.

…

_She wakes up on her back, in a tunnel, pitch black. _

_She does not know anything. She knows she is confined. She wiggles her toes and her head swims, dizzy. Something is pulling at her. Something that is not on her outside but on her inside. Get up. GO. It pulls at her. _

_She does not know anything. _

_She pushes out with her feet, and is met with something hard and freezing cold. The dragging inside her tells her this is not where she should be, in this long narrow tunnel and away from what loves her. _

_What loves her. _

_Like automatically, her hand jerks, and there is light. Light, down by her feet, and she is wiggling and squirming and free. She is free on a hard tile floor. Naked. Head pounding. _

_She does not know anything. _

_But the pull says get up get out get going, and she stands, eyes adjusting. Trying to focus. _

_Three metal tables, long enough to lie on. She could lie down on them and take a nap…She could…_

_No. _

_What loves her. It is waiting. She. _

_Waiting. For her. _

_Each breath is sharp in her chest. She looks down. Skin half pink half pale and normal. _

_She should not be naked. She knows some things. Half things. _

_She looks around. One desk, one desk chair. One coat, one pair of sneakers. _

_The coat is too big and the sneakers are too small. _

_It doesn't matter. Now that she is dressed, she is being pulled again. Pulled hard. This room is not where she should be. In this dim, basement room and away from the woman who loves her. _

_She zips the coat, not touching it. her hands are stiff. They don't bend. _

_They scream with pain. _

_It doesn't matter. _

_She knows half things, and one half of what she knows tells her she does not like the people who work here. The half of what she knows tells her that they will not like her either. _

_Back from the dead. _

_That doesn't happen. _

_But the pull inside of her aches as badly as her ribcage. Almost as badly as her hands do. _

_Get to what loves you. _

_She reexamines the room. One window. High. _

_One push of both her hands and it doesn't matter that it was locked, though part of her feels bad for the shattered glass she leaves behind. _

_The street is dark, streetlights and stars. _

_The pull turns her right on the corner and then left. She walks slowly, and it aches and pulls and aches, but she ignores it. _

_She knows she should find more clothes. She knows it is night. _

_She knows that she must get back to what loves her. _

…

The doctor's resurface is smooth, and she opens her eyes to see Jane looking down at her, arms around her, supporting her.

[alright?]

She can't help but smile, nodding. God, she missed that question.

She traces the scar from the edge of Jane's chin down to where it disappears into her v-neck. She feels the brunette catch her breath. "You died," she says quietly, trying to make sense of each hazy vision that has been given to her. "You were in the morgue. In cold storage." The realization makes Maura shiver. "You died…and came back…how?"

Jane looks down at her. [You were not dead] like that explains it.

Almost.

"Say again," she says, trying to hold onto the meaning.

Jane nods. [You were not dead. I did not die] simple. Too complicated.

Maura is still, trying to figure it out. Her rational brain rejects the idea completely, but the new her. The person she is with her Invictu, accepts this explanation like a fact.

She sighs, leaning back into Jane. "I dreamed those things," she whispers quietly, "I dreamed pain and I would wake up and it was still with me and…" She reaches out and takes one of Jane's hands in her own. The scar in the middle of her palm is whiter than the rest of her skin, healed, but raised and apparent to anyone who chooses to look at it. Maura brings the hand to her lips, and when her lips brush over the skin, she feels Jane's spark of desire shoot up her own spine. She looks up into the deep brown eyes, reading studied impassiveness, feeling fear.

"I dreamt such agony, Jane," she says again, "Three months…four?" She takes a breath, remembers confused views of hospital lights, surgical masks, and the snap of rubber gloves. She remembers cold nights on the sides of roads and pity from strangers, pushed through with revulsion. She remembers confusion. "Is that why you couldn't come home to me? Remembering took this long? Healing kept you away?"

Jane pulls her hands away, she looks at them with something like anger. [I never wanted that for you.] frustrated. Sad. [I never wanted you to feel…] but she pulls up abruptly at the feel of Maura's hands on her waist.

"There are more," the doctor whispers, stepping closer. She knows this is true, though she couldn't say how. She watches Jane's brow crease with effort, and she slides her other hand around the narrow waist, pulling her closer. "Don't," she whispers. "Don't hide your hurt from me. Please." It seems like all she's been doing lately is begging.

Jane shudders, and Maura feels a jolt like from a tazer, just below her ribs. [It hurt. The memories still hurt.]

The doctor leans forward, her head coming to rest on Jane's collarbone. "Then let me share it with you," she breathes, "let me make it better." She leans forward and kisses Jane's shoulder.

The brunette nods.

…

She is decidedly deliberate with each of her movements. Jane watches her like a hawk, and when Maura gestures to her bed, she doesn't move right away.

She has spent the evening watching her Although the doctor can feel her desire just under the surface, it feels different now. Settled and cautious, much less reckless than the way they'd been in the empty house in Quantico. It makes the doctor want Jane all the more.

Maura pushes Jane back onto her bed, and for a moment she just looks at her, wondering if this is a dream. It's like so many that she's had before. She moves quickly before she can lose her nerve, coming to straddle the narrow hips, and she can feel her own excitement mixing with Jane's anticipation…and fear.

She reaches down to slip her hands under the brunette's shirt, wanting to comfort. "Let me…" but she can't get the rest of the statement out. She can feel another scar, twisting under her hands, and she runs her fingers up Jane's ribcage, her eyes widening.

"Jane," she breathes, and the brunette shrugs, her own hands coming to rest on Maura's hips.

[I had to protect you] a flash of the office on the fifteenth floor. Jane's point of view as she'd guided Maura safely to the ground. The searing of something sharp and hot, as it tears through her clothing, burning, like melted glass. [I had to use anything I had to protect you.]

But Maura looks up fiercely, "protecting _yourself_ protects me, Jane. Don't you get it?"

Jane closes her eyes, her jaw clenching and unclenching. The blonde watches her struggle, and she can feel the edges of the Invictu's emotions, like the edge of a can on a shelf is just out of reach. "Let me in," she says, more so she can push the overwhelming feeling of desperation and despair that go with that sentence.

Jane tenses at the onslaught of emotion, and her response is strained, fraying like a rope.

[I can't.] But Maura hears, _I want to._

And the doctor and the lover in her cannot stand it anymore. She takes the hem of Jane's t-shirt and yanks up roughly, pulling it off of the woman beneath her, revealing a tanned muscular torso, a plain grey sports bra, and…

She can't help but gasp.

There are four major scars, they wrap the Invictu like smooth, pale snakes, and when Maura ghosts her fingertips over them, Jane shudders, trying to move away from her.

[ugly] pushed like hate.

"No," Maura says forcefully, "God…no, they are just…" she tries to think of a word that will explain how frightening and alarming it is to see Jane marked like this. It is like looking at wounds on her own skin. She opens her mouth, and then shuts it again. There has never been a connection like this before, not in medical history. They have not made the words yet for how the doctor feels.

But Jane hears her, even though she hasn't spoken. [Go ahead] nervous and apologetic, and Maura presses her hand firmly against a smaller scar on Jane's abdomen, watching the muscles tighten underneath her hands. "You should have come back to me," she whispers, trailing her hand around to Jane's hip bone, pulling her down the bed a little, more firmly against her. "You should have come back to me…sooner."

[who would want me, how could you want me, you shouldn't want me] it comes jumbled, in a mess of misery and anger and fear. But it is underscored by hope and an overwhelming sense of calm, at the feeling of Maura's hands on her skin, and those are the emotions that Maura holds onto as she leans down, her lips hovering just above Jane's jaw. "You may feel like you have to protect me. You may have a direct line to my body and brain, and think that I need you to shelter me," she whispers, and she feels Jane stop breathing. "But that is not a decision you get to make all on your own. Who I love is who I love, Jane Rizzoli. And Invictu or not…I'm in love with you." And before the other woman can gather herself enough to even form a thought, Maura presses their lips together. It is the first time in six months.

All the lights in the house snap off.

…

They are careful. The brownstone belongs to Maura, and it is where she wants to live, and so they are careful, moving against each other, slowly, deliberately, the quiet gasps and moans as they come together doing no more than knocking a couple books off of the shelf nearby. Slipping the pillow off an ottoman in the corner.

Maura's hands pull at Jane's jeans, and they rip like they are made of tissue. She looks up in to dark, dangerous eyes, remembering what she had said the first time.

_You. In me. No difference. _

She looks down at the long muscled legs that she has just revealed. In the light cast by the streetlights outside, Jane looks wild…animalistic. Maura wants her. Wants to possess her like she was possessed back in Quantico. Wants to kiss Jane hard enough that they could once again repel bullets.

But she hesitates…wondering.

[I'm not a virgin.] the answer to her question, pushed with an image of a man, the feeling of a hand around her neck, tight, if not oppressive.

It gives Maura pause, "Him?"

Jane looks away from her, and she feels pain or guilt or arousal. A hot and muddy mixture of all three. [He said we were required to procreate. They wanted to see what I could beget].

Of course. As soon as she was a woman, Beckett would have wanted to push it farther. To see if she could give birth to a child that did not need to be infected. For the first time since the observation room in Boston, Maura realizes how little she knows about Jane's life in the compound. She realizes she is going to have to find out.

"That's rape," Maura says now, a little angrily, moving to lie down next to Jane. Her hand draws lazy circles on the brunette's hip bone, and she pushes non-consent. She pushes fear.

Jane turns to look at her. [I wasn't scared. I consented.] The truth. Maura doesn't know if she's relieved or bitter. The indecision makes her feel guilty. Jane looks at her. [I loved Him.]

Pazerretti. Yes. Maura knows. She could feel it in the dreams. Jane pushes closer to her, pressing her head to Maura's shoulder.

[He died for me.] Devastation. And Maura can feel the next push before it comes. Feel it built fierce and true and the only thing her Invictu knows.

[I love you.] stronger, realer, beyond the connection they share. [I couldn't lose you.] She presses closer and her lips on Maura's neck are like rings of fire. "I couldn't" spoken aloud, deep and gravelly. Full of conviction.

Maura moans. She can't help it. "You didn't," she breathes, as Jane rolls on top of her, pressing their hips together firmly. The bed frame shudders. The brunette rocks them, slowly and carefully, but out of the corner of her eye, Maura sees the mirror by the door crack down the middle.

"You didn't. You didn't lose me. I'm right here…I…God…_Jane_." Her hand slips down between them. "Let me…" the fingers in her hair tighten, Jane's lips find the base of her ear. She feels the woman above her nod. "Shit," she swears, pressing up with her hips as her fingers slip inside. It is hot and wet and tight, and…it is like being inside herself too, each feeling doubled back on itself, magnified four times. "_Oh...shit." _She can't help it, and the lips against her curl into a smile.

Maura would roll her eyes if she could make them open. Her free hand tries to bring Jane closer, pulling at her back and her shoulder blades and her hips in a desperate and forceful pattern.

"Maura," through gritted teeth, holding back.

"Do it," she breathes, feeling her own rushing closer as well. "please…please. just…just promise me…" She's panting. She can't get it out. She can't focus to try again. But she hears Jane respond, just before her climax hits her, and she's dragged down under a tidal wave of pleasure. Just before Jane growls and follows, extending Maura's release, or restarting it. Or maybe she disappears for the smallest space of a moment and Jane's release _is_ hers too.

Just before that moment. She hears the response. And it frees her.

"I'm here to stay."

* * *

**Okay...so if about half way through this...you read something that made you go...wait but if...then that means that...OH SHIT!  
then congratulations. You now know the endgame of this fiction. **

**I hope this answered ****_some_**** of your questions. The next chapter is pretty fluffy and informative, so we can take a break from the drams before the last climax and denoumont. Thanks for all your encouragemtent. It's lovely. And thank you double time, for all of your kind words. They are undeserved, but so so f*cking appreciated, you have no idea. To the guest who was like...but what about the sex? I in no way meant that you were being mean or anything like that...I actually love it when people call me on stuff like that because it means ya'll are READING, rather than skimming, looking for sexitimes, or mad angst. lol. **

**There was a guest this time around who was upset because of a lack of (inconsistent?) capitalization? I did not totally understand your question...I think you were saying that in the beginning, I didn't capitalize anything? and now I am? And that is aggravating to the point of nonreading? ...I...am going to be honest. I suck at capitalization. I'm decent at grammer, but I have a spastic pinky, that tends to hit the SHIFT key at random times, capitalizing at random times...I tried feeding my pinky some ADHD meds...I took it to therapy...nothing seemed to work. But I am trying...so if there is a chap where you think my shifting pinky is out of control, PLEASE let me know. I'll have a talk with it. **

**I love you guys so much! 10 more chapters. Let's get to it!**

**happy reading. **

**tc**


	16. Sixteen

Maura wakes up, but doesn't open her eyes or move. She stays very still trying to hold onto the dream she'd been having. It had been wonderful. Jane was alive, and back with her, and the empty aching she'd been feeling in her chest for months had disappeared. She'd felt alive. She'd been whole.

Maura sighs and opens her eyes, rolling over to look at the empty side of the bed, where she'd dreamt Jane asleep, what seems like minutes ago. The dream had felt so real. Maura reaches out and touches the rumpled pillow. It is still warm.

It's still...

Maura sits up, suddenly, looking towards the door of the master bathroom. It is shut. The doctor feels her heart rate speed up. She never shuts that door.

Quietly, trying desperately to stay realistic (for she's had these dreams before, and didn't they always end in her tears?), she swings her feet over the side of the bed and stands up.

"Jane?" the level of a whisper.

The response is immediate. [Maura.] warm and steamy, liquid comfort, and Maura realizes that the brunette is in the bathtub. [this tub is like heaven]

Maura stands up and rushes to the door, pushing it open on a bathroom full of steam and smelling of honey suckle. She can't help her gasp, and it is one of surprise and excitement and..._excitement, _because there's her invictu, dark hair wet and slick against her head, submerged in her oversized bathtub, surrounded by mountains of suds.

Maura tries to restart her brain, but the sight has rendered her immobile and mute.

[heaven] the brunette repeats the image, closing her eyes happily, and Maura gets so lost in the warmth and relaxation of the feeling, that she misses the question.

"Maura?" spoken aloud to jar the doctor from her trance, followed quickly by [alright?]

She opens her eyes, moving quickly to come sit on the side of the tub.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine..." She thinks for a moment, "You mean heaven. Or delectable," she says, smiling faintly at the crease that appears between Jane's eyebrows.

She leans to smooth the dark brow and the moment her hand touches warm wet skin, her eyes flutter. "Or delicious," she says, bitting her lip, "Although that's usually used for food...um, maybe...relaxing...it makes you feel..."

But Jane reaches up quickly, taking Maura's wrist firmly in her hands and bringing her hand down to her lips.

"Oh," Maura can't help the first shiver as is ripples through her, or the second, when Jane looks into her eyes, "Relaxing," she says growling. "Delicious."

"y-yes," she stutters, resisting the urge to slide into the tub, pajamas and all. "that's good."

"Heaven," Jane kisses one of her fingers.

"y-you would say, the bath is like heaven," she says weakly, trying to hold onto her focus enough to continue the English lesson.

Jane kisses her palm. "De-lect-able," she murmurs, and Maura almost moans.

"Now you're just teasing me," the doctor whispers, and she leans past the lip of the tub to press her lips to Jane's. "It really is important that you start speaking," she says, between kisses, "I mean _really_ speaking. So as not to arouse suspicion."

Jane leans in for another kiss, nodding, but Maura pulls away, feeling a stab of panic as she finishes her sentence. It assumes that Jane is going to be with her now...for a long time.

She thinks back to last night. Not a dream, but reality. Jane in her bed and in her arms and in her head, telling her...telling her...

"Staying," Jane says, and her dark eyes search Maura's face, pensive and sad. "Staying." Firm and honest, the doctor can feel it.

"Maura-"

But Maura stands, suddenly too overcome with emotion to stay in the same spot. "I have to...go flick the lights...for Barry," she says, not bothering to explain that any further.

Jane doesn't stop her, but Maura can feel her eyes on her back as she exits the bathroom. She can feel the sadness, and the guilt.

Maura flicks the bedroom light in her room, listening for the revving of the police car, and when it comes, she smiles, starting to breathe easily for the first time since she woke up that morning. She puts a steadying hand on one of the poles over her four poster bed, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling the woman in the bathroom. Jane. Her Invictu.

Maybe this isn't just another-

But a sound behind her makes her look over her shoulder. Jane is standing there, wrapped in a towel, looking concerned.

She pushes sleepless nights, and hazy images.

Maura nods. "Yes...I...I dreamt about you often, Jane." She turns away. "I-I dreamt you in my house...in this house...quite a few times."

Jane takes a step towards her, but Maura holds out her hands, stopping her. Jane waits patiently, not saying anything.

Maura shakes her head slightly. "And now you're here," she says quietly.

Jane nods, unmoving. "here," she repeats out loud, and what she pushes is strong and primal. "here." she repeats, her voice rough around the words like the tongue of a cat.

Maura shivers, but holds herself still. "I'm going to...um...make coffee," she says, moving towards the door, and Jane can hear that she's supposed to stay behind without having to ask. "Will you get dressed?" she doesn't mean for it to come out as a question, but Jane doesn't blink.

"Yes," she says, and Maura loves her for taking her comment about speaking to heart. She gestures to her closet and her dresser. "Take anything...wear...anything, alright?"

Jane half smiles. "I will..." she falters, "I'll come to you soon."

Maura cannot help but smile at this. "I'll be there, or, I'll be down, if you're coming," she gestures, "downstairs. Okay?"

Jane nods, "Yes," she says again, and Maura turns away. But before she can get to the door, the brunette takes her elbow, pulling her back.

"I'm here," she says, and her lips on Maura's are like salvation. "I'll be down. Soon."

And with a cocky grin, like she knows exactly what she does to her doctor, Jane disappears behind the bathroom door.

...

In the kitchen, Maura starts the coffee and then leans back against the counter, waiting. But she finds that she cannot just stand there idle, and so she pulls eggs out of the refrigerator, and then bread and a bag of apples. By the time Jane arrives in the kitchen, she is working on the first full fledged breakfast she's ever had in her kitchen.

"Woah," Jane says, coming across the threshold, and the doctor looks up. Jane has found a pair of her dark jeans, and a light blue sweater. The pants are probably too short, Maura thinks, but that is hidden in Jane's boots, large and brown and combat style.

They suit her, somehow, even if, "that outfit does not go with those boots, sweetheart," she says, smiling and Jane tilts her head.

"Go with?" she looks confused and Maura shakes her head.

"Never mind. we will go out and buy you clothes today, okay?"

Jane comes to sit on a stool at the island in the kitchen. She wrinkles her nose. [What's wrong with what I have?] pushed like the beginnings of an insult.

Maura is caught between affection and dismay. "One, it's not nearly enough. Two...one t-shirt and one ripped pair of jeans?"

Jane looks baffled, "Why do you need more."

"I," Maura says, pressing her hand to Jane's shoulder. Pleasure jumps against her fingers "I," she says again and then touches her own chest. "You."

Jane raises an eyebrow, but asks again. "Why do I need more?" Maura smiles at her, setting down coffee and a steaming plate of eggs down in front of her.

"That answer is...very complicated, Jane...even for people who have lived in the world their whole lives." She points.

"Breakfast," she says, quickly, and Jane nods.

"I know," she speaks without heat, but it makes Maura realize how much time she really has been away. It makes her realize that all the time she spent in New York, missing Jane, the brunette was traveling. Learning. She watches Jane poke at the eggs experimentally with her fork before lifting some to her mouth. She grins.

"Better than anywhere," she says with her mouth full. Maura wants to kiss her. She slides a glass of juice over instead. "Else," she says quietly, grabbing her own plate. "better than anywhere else, and, I can't imagine you've had decent nutrition...wherever you've been."

Jane pushes comfort, reading what's behind the words. "Nowhere long, Maura. Always coming back to you," she holds up her hand as Maura opens her mouth. "I _know_," she says, rolling her eyes. "_I was_ nowhere long," she fixes, "_I was_ always coming back to you." She puts more eggs in her mouth, chewing slowly. "I was..." she says, fork pausing in mid air. "I _am_ here now."

Maura blushes, looking down at her own plate. "I know. It's...just...going to take time, Jane," she says quietly, "I...It's just going to take time."

"I love you," simple.

the doctor nods, "I love you too."

.

Maura calls out of work after breakfast, and announces to Jane that they are going to go shopping.

Jane looks wary. "sounds boring," she says nonchalantly.

"Oh, no!" Maura says, putting the dishes in the sink. Her hands are full with glasses and cups and so she reaches for her elbow to turn on the faucet, but Jane waves her hands an the sink twists on.

"Thank you, honey," she says, dropping the dishes in. "And no, shopping is not boring at all. It is wonderful. You're going to love it."

[love shopping for shirts? I have a shirt Maur. Why do I need a new shirt?]

Maura laughs, she can't help it. The genuine confusion of this new statement tickles her.

"You're going to love it," she says firmly, battling back against the skepticism that washes over her. "You'll see!"

Jane curls her finger and Maura skids towards her a little, with a yelp. Jane grins devilishly.

"_Uch, Jane_" Maura smiles, "make yourself useful at least, hmm?" She smiles as the rest of the dishes lift casually off their surfaces and slide into the sink.

The doctor shakes her head. "You are...extraordinary," she says softly. The warm glow she gets in return is too soft and too comforting to have a name.

...

The first two places that Maura takes her Invictu, she hates. She does not understand the purpose of high heels, or appreciate the beauty of a handbag. She picks out flats, like Keds with laces, and Maura grimaces.

"Do you know what your legs would do in heels?" Maura asks, licking her lips.

[doesn't matter. I'd have to be taken to the hospital for broken ankles] and Maura has to stifle a laugh so as not to look as though she's laughing at nothing.

They pass The Gap, and Jane tugs at Maura's mind, [I like things in there!] and it's the first time that Jane has sounded excited all trip, and so Maura allows herself to be led inside.

While Jane busies herself with the t-shirts, Maura pushes the clothes along a rack in the back of the store, reminded of when she preformed the same action in a Wal-Mart...ages ago.

Her mind is ablaze with questions that she wants to ask Jane, who has been enthralled and baffled by everything from automatic doors, to the bedding section in Macy's.

"Ask," Jane has come up behind her, and she whispers the word in the doctor's ear.  
Maura looks around at Jane. She's holding several of the same shirt in different colors. Maura crinkles her brow. There are several things she wants to ask, and while she is aware that she should come at the questions in a scientific manner, she finds when it comes to this woman, she can't remain objective.

"What did you sleep on?"

Jane tilts her head, but pushes an image of a room. one flat surface like a bench. Maura frowns.

"No blanket?"

"Why?" Jane asks, genuinely curious.

Maura casts about, "to stay warm, to..for comfort?"

Jane shrugs. "I was not cold," she says, and it is not lost on the doctor that she's doesn't mention comfort.

She looks down at the coat under her hands.

"More," Jane says, smiling gently. "Don't be afraid. Ask."

"Korsak said..." Maura pauses, trying to figure out how to send the right message. "He called the way you lived...the people you live with...a cult."

And even if Jane doesn't understand the word, she feels the connotation.

"I'm not hurt," she says, shaking her head at a blouse that Maura holds up.

The doctor shakes her head, "But, you have to realize, Jane...that by society's standards, you have been hurt. You were kidnapped and infected, isolated and locked up. You never got to play with other children, or run around outside, or...I don't know... engage in team sports with class mates. Pazerretti hit you. You never got to...shop for clothing! All of those are things that-"

[Did you?] Jane cuts across the doctor's rant, and she looks up suddenly into deep brown eyes.

"Did I what?"

[Do those things?] She crinkles her nose, "play with other children? run around outside?"

Maura bites her lip. The invictu has her there. "I...I didn't" she says quietly, and Jane's brow furrows, confused.

"But I _could_ have," she says, trying to push through to her point. "I _could_ have had friends or done sports..." she shakes her head, clearing it, "your life was stolen from you."

Jane picks up a deep green sweater, and holds it up, thinking. Maura nods, holding out her hand. Jane hands it to her.

"Why didn't..you do those things?"

Maura looks away. "My family, traveled... a lot. I would make friends and then..." She sighs, and Jane puts her hand out. She pushes an image of a man, blonde hair and light eyes. Maura's sharp nose, and the doctor looks around at her, eyes huge. Her biological father. The man who saved her life by smuggling her out of Beckett's compound. The reason she wound up with her adoptive parents in the first place.

She knows what Jane is saying. She understands why this image is coming now.

[He was always very nice to me] she pushes the kind of feeling that tucks in at night, that kisses scratches to make them feel better. [He was a good man]

Maura shakes her head, trying to clear both her buzzing thoughts and her tears.

"Oh, Jane." They have a lot to talk about. She realizes she's been picking all the wrong times, and the middle of a clothing boutique is certainly the wrong time.

She puts her hand on Jane's arm, trying to convey _we'll talk_, without speaking. She doesn't trust her voice.

The brunette leans closer, brown eyes never leaving green. "We both got hurt." she states it firmly, but there is a question underneath. A plea for forgiveness.

"But hurt got me you, Maura."  
God that voice. Maura smiles, despite herself. "You have a family. A mother that still loves you very much."

Jane nods, "okay." An acknowledgment. More than the doctor had expected. She looks down at the t-shirts in Jane's hands.

"You need to pick more shades of that shirt than just blue," she says.

Jane looks down. "...Okay,' Jane looks slightly miffed.

Maura leans towards her, kissing her cheek. "That feeling you are pushing me right now is annoyance," she says smiling. "And you don't have to try and fight it...You look cute when you pout," she sticks out her bottom lip to illustrate the word.

Jane huffs, "An noy ance, " she says, emphasizing each syallable with a dramatic sigh, and she's acknowldging that the heavy moment has passed, even if it's not finished.

"We'll heal," Maura says, wanting to make herself clear. But she points out a dress across the store, like they are discussing the weather.

Jane shakes her head adamantly at the outfit, but her response is to Maura's words.  
"Together."

.

[I did a thing] guilty, but also a little proud, and Maura looks at her sharply.  
"What?"

They are on their way out, and the brunette has gotten more and more tense as they made their way the exit, loaded down with bags from more than five different stores.

"What's wrong?" Maura asks again, because Jane hasn't answered, and Jane points towards the food court. Maura turns to see Frost, sitting alone at one of the tables, popping cheese puffs into his mouth. "Wha-" Maura starts, but Jane nudges Maura and points off in the opposite direction, to where Korsak is strolling towards the young police officer, hands in his pockets.

"Did you..." Maura gapes at Jane? "_Make _them come here?"

Jane looks a little sheepish. "I..." She pushes hard.

Maura chuckles. "suggested," she says, her chuckles turning into a laugh. "That's suggested...and..." she grins watching Korsak greet Frost enthusiastically, "It doesn't appear that either of them is complaining."

"I wanted to see them," Jane says, and she tugs gently on Maura's hand, asking.

"Of course," Maura says following at once, even though she feels a rush of something irrational...like jealousy. "that's natural."

Jane leans in to Maura quickly, and she bites at the doctors earlobe once, "I'm yours," Jane whispers. She's felt the doctors envy, of course she has. But Jane kisses just under her ear, and Maura feels a little lightheaded. "I go with you...Always."

Oh. Maura lets herself blink for a little longer than it takes to blink, trying to hold on to that. How wonderful.

Maura grasps at Jane's hand as they walk towards the two men, and she can feel them even out. feel their connection settle into something comfortable. Something safe.

"We can heal each other," She says quietly, and Jane glances at her. "If you stay here, with me." She thinks of the Rizzoli's, of the reunion that she knows will have to happen, but that she won't force. "Jane?"

Jane grins and tilts her head towards Frost, and Maura turns to see a cheese puff fly out of his hand, hit him on the forehead and fall to the table.

For a moment, he and Korsak just look at it, faces blank with shock.

Maura thinks of Korsak's son. "Jane?"

The brunette looks at her, and the expression on her face is so happy, and so affectionate, that the request for reassurance dis on Maura's lips.

She squeezes Jane's hand looking around to see Frost look up, finding them in the crowd. He leaps out of his seat with a yelp, like it's on fire.

"Jane!?"

"Well I'll be a son of a-" Korsak hauls himself out of his seat too.  
Jane's hand in Maura's tightens, and she pushes contentment and laughter and afghans. Quick kisses before a meal where everyone is there.

Maura smiles, holding out her hands to embrace Frost as he runs towards them.

"Home," she says softly.

"That's called home."

* * *

**I am mad spaced out on cold meds, ya'll...so...if this is full of errors...I apologize. I will fix it in the mornin' **

**thanks for all the well wishes on tumblr. You are all the best. **

**Happy Reading**

**tc**


	17. Seventeen

_He takes a deep breath and the cold fall air fills his lungs like the inflating of a balloon. Only a couple more of those and then everything will be over. _

_Hopefully. _

_He looks down. from this high up, the people look like ants and the cars look like they are traveling slowly, crawling along the roads that cut through the city like concrete moats. He closes his eyes, because the view is making him dizzy and he doesn't want to fall. Not yet. _

_Using most of the strength he has left, he reaches for her. He scrunches his eyes tight, and tries to pull at her, to bring her closer, to find out where she is. He does not get anything in return, except the fleeting image of a dark lock of hair, and the corner of a mouth, turned up in a smile. _

_Her mouth. He would recognize that dimple anywhere. He grabs at the image, trying to make it stay, trying to pull it harder, expand it. He is rewarded with the faint scent of fresh sheets and honeysuckle…_

_And then it is gone._

_He opens his eyes, and is able to convince himself momentarily that the wetness in them is from the strength of the wind, and not the new idea that has come to him. He shifts his feet on the narrow ledge, trying to push it away, but it comes back again and again, unbidden and unwelcome. _

_She is happy. That's why she is not looking for him. That is why he does not feel a pull, but rather, an empty, aching hole that nothing can fix. She is happy and safe and…possibly worst of all, she is no longer his. _

_He swipes angrily at his face and almost loses his balance. God damn it. He does not want to fall to his death (and please, God, let him fall to his death this time) with tears in his eyes, and nothing but the knowledge that she can survive without him. He is old, and terribly disfigured, but he is still a person, with thoughts and feelings.  
Feelings for her. _

_Behind him, below him a bit, there is the slamming of a door, and a scream… the demand that somebody call 911. _

_He sighs, tired. He supposes he should jump. _

_But then, a voice comes from behind him. It is deep and decidedly male, but still very, very familiar. _

_"Hey…Hey guy, what are you doing out there?" _

_He turns, and he's looking into her eyes. _

_For a moment, those deep brown eyes are all he can see. "It's…you," he stutters, and he takes a step towards her. _

_"Hey," the man says again, "Hey, buddy, look, whatever's gone wrong for you, it's not worth it to end your life." _

_And he frowns, because the voice is too deep and the jaw too wide, and with stubble. A man…not her, though at first glance. He frowns and he looks away, back down at the ground, and his good eye, the one that is not dead and overgrown with scar tissue, waters again, looking at the view. It would be pretty…if it weren't going to be the last thing he'd ever see. _

_"Go away," he growls, and the right side of his face is stiff and slow to answer. _

_"I'm a police officer," the man says, and his voice is closer now. "You thinking about jumping?" _

_His laugh might be more like a bark these days, "Of course I am, son," he says wryly. "You think I came out here for a picnic?" _

_The man is silent, and he can feel eyes on his face…he turns away. _

_"Think about all you got to live for," the police officer says, his voice even closer now. "Think about the people who would miss you if you jumped. _

_And he doesn't even have the energy to laugh at this new line of reasoning. Originally, when he'd woken up, covered head to toe in angry red burns, his first cognizant thought had been to similar. He was alive. He didn't know how, but he was…and he could find her and they could start some kind of life together…he just had to heal. _

_But as the days had turned into weeks without any sort of pull from her…without any type of feeling at all…he'd grown bitter, angry. He'd resolved to find her, and make her his. _

_Something had pulled him to New York City, perhaps that it was her birthplace, perhaps that it was a place where someone as disfigured as he was could hope to blend in. Whatever it was that pulled him here, it died when he arrived, like a cord being cut. He could feel nothing of her. _

_"No one wants me to live," he says now, dully, "Look at me." _

_Another pause, and then, "Well…I would hate to see you die," the police officer's voice is soft, and he looks at the young man again. He only has one good eye, but still…_

_"You look very like someone I used to know," he says quietly. "In the eyes…around the jaw." _

_"Yeah? Would he want you to do this?" The police officer inches closer, and this time he really can muster a chuckle. _

_"You know…there came a time when I could've told you exactly what she wanted," he says, bracing himself back against the wall. He salutes the officer, the way his father taught him. "But those days, are over." _

_And with that, ignoring the shout of protest from the officer near him, he pushes himself off the ledge, and plummets towards the pavement below._

* * *

…

Jane sits up next to the doctor in bed…breathing hard. Beside her, Maura sits up too, the spasm of panic pulling her out of her own dream.

"Hey," she says sleepily. "Hey. It was just a dream…the same one?" The doctor is used to the way the Invictu dreams now, used to falling into them halfway through her own, if one of them should roll over to hold the other. Sometimes, the doctor wakes up with the memory of a house she lived in in London, a long brunette figure disappearing around the corner. Or she'll wake with the memory a field she's never been in before, and her mother, walking away from her.

The dreams are disconcerting and comforting, scary and enchanting all at once. Maura likes the idea that her invictu can retrospectively insert herself into her life. It's like an apology. Or a consolation.

Now, she reaches out and touches Jane's shoulder, feeling the trickle of the dream fading. "Honey? It was just a dream…right?" Sometimes they are memories that the brunette wants to talk about. Maura waits, fingers tracing Jane's shoulder absently.

Jane rubs at her eyes. [Yes. It must have been.] still sleepy, groggy. [Did you get any of it?]

Maura shakes her head, stretching. "No," she says, a little regretfully. "You rolled away in the middle of the night, I think." She watches her Invictu roll her shoulders and then arch backwards, stretching. Her tank top rides up, and the doctor can't help but stare at the shiny skin of her scars as they tighten over abdominal muscles.

"You're staring," Jane says with her eyes still closed.

Maura blushes. "I'm sorry. You're just…" but she can't find and adequate word to finish that sentence. Jane chuckles like the rumbling of a subway train, and hauls herself out of bed.

"Yes," she says over her shoulder, "I am just…"

Maura laughs, watching Jane disappear behind the bathroom door, before rolling out of bed herself, and heading to her closet.

Never in all her life, did the doctor imagine that she would be part of such a strange and wonderful life. She wakes up next to Jane every morning, and watches as two sleepy brown eyes open and fix on her intently. Jane likes to sleep facing her, sometimes with their foreheads pressed together, and more often than not, Maura will wake with the brunette pressed into her, front to front, as through trying to make them one person.

Barry comes over for dinner, more often than not, and sometimes, after she flicks the lights, to let him know they are there and okay, she will descend the stairs to find him in the kitchen with Jane, drinking instant coffee and talking about sports.

"The point?" Jane is asking today, as Maura descends the stairs, poking an earring through her ear.

"To score points," the doctor hears Frost say. "To win."

"Win what?" Jane asks skeptically.

"Uh," Frost pauses, "Well…I guess money? The love of their hometown? A chance to go to the World Series?"

"World Series of what?"  
Frost looks scandalized. Maura smiles, "Don't you dare turn her onto sports, Barry Frost," she says coming around the corner. "We'll lose her forever to the TV."

Jane wrinkles her nose. "I still don't understand it."

But Frost laughs offering Maura a mug, "You'll love it, Jay…I promise. Baseball is like breathing. I bed you'll be a Yankees fan."

Jane tilts her head. "What's your team?"

Frost lowers his head and his voice, "Red Sox," he nearly whispers, "But in a town like this, that could get a guy killed."

Maura laughs and Jane looks between them, before setting her face stubbornly.  
"I like the Red Sox too," she says certainly, she glances at Frost, and she can tell by the way his eyes widen a little that she is pulling something. She grins, "They have character."

...

[You're thinking hard] Jane interrupts her thoughts with something gentle and concerned. Probing.

Maura looks around at her, sitting at the island drinking coffee like she is just any other person.

"Say that out loud," she says now, and Jane rolls her eyes.

"Why? We're at home?" Even though her tone is annoyed, Maura can't help but shiver happily at the last sentence. _We're at home_.

"Frost is gone," Jane continues, "No one's left out."

"You have to practice," Maura says firmly, coming over and wrapping her arms around the slender waist.

"I'm doing fine," grumpy, but a little relenting. Jane leans into her touch, and they stand there for a moment, pushing and pulling contentment back and forth.

"Yes, you are," the doctor says, pressing a kiss to the exposed part of Jane's neck. "And I want to take you to the office with me today." In reality, she's been planning this for a couple weeks, and when Jane understands that, she pulls back, looking accusatory.

"Why?" _Why now, why haven't you told me before, why? What are you going to do to me?_

Maura hesitates, trying to find the question that is the most important. She takes one of Jane's hands in her own. "Well, for one, I want to see about your hands…" She pauses, and Jane narrows her eyes. "Maybe do a CT scan…"

[I'm not an experiment] cold, and a little bit confused.

But the doctor brings the long fingered hand up to her mouth, kissing. "Of course you aren't. And if you don't want me to, I won't Jane…but…well, aren't you curious?" she asks this tentatively. "Aren't you curious about yourself at all?"

Jane shakes her head firmly, but the image that Maura gets is of a familiar looking woman, kind brown eyes and light brown hair.

"Oh," Maura says, letting her hands travel up muscled arms. "Oh, Jane…I'm-I'm sorry." Jane looks away, her eyes hard and impassive. But Maura can feel her. She knows. "Of course you're curious about your family. That's totally normal, you know."

Jane rolls her shoulders, and her free hand comes up to touch the scar on her neck unconsciously. Maura can feel what she wants to say even as Jane opens and shuts her mouth. Undecided.

"Hey," she says quietly, tightening her grip. "Hey, when you meet her, she's going to love you."

Jane looks around at her sharply. "She thinks I'm dead."

"You're not."

"She's made her peace."

"She hasn't." Maura says this forcefully, and Jane looks a little surprised. "No one ever gets over losing a child, Jane. When you meet her…you'll see."

Jane is quiet for a moment. She considers her hands. "How?" hopeful and quiet, and Maura knows that she is asking how they will meet, and when.

"I don't know," she answers honestly.

"You've met her…my…" the brunette cannot bring herself to say it. Maura reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Yes," she says quietly. "And your oldest brother…and your father…briefly."

"Does she…does.." Jane shakes her head, knowing the words but unable to say any of them.

Maura smiles. "She looks a lot like you. So does your brother," she squeezes Jane gently, feeling her tighten with the effort to keep emotions at bay. "You'd fit right in in that family."

Jane drops her head to the crook of Maura's neck. She doesn't know if it has something to do with Jane's head touching her skin, or just that there is now more skin in general that is touching her, but whenever it happens, their connection seems to increase tenfold. Jane kisses her neck, she sighs.

"Come to the hospital with me," she says, closing her eyes. "The more we know about you, Jane…the easier to explain to your family."

Jane growls once, deep, and it feels like it's being pulled from Maura's own chest cavity. It's only then that she realizes she is purring in response.

She's nodding at the ferociousness of Jane's words even before she says them.

"_You_. Are my family."

* * *

…

But the ER turns out to be almost full when they get there. They walk through the automatic doors (Jane working hard to look like they are something she encounters everywhere) and find the interns rushing about in all directions.

"Cold in here today!" One of them calls as he spots the doctor, and the others look around and then away quickly, having gotten the message.

Maura ignores them, but Jane's eyes narrow immediately.

"Good Morning, Liam," she says stiffly, and he puts on one of the more disingenuous smiles she's seen.

"Good Morning Doctor Isles," he says, his voice saccharine sweet. He looks around at Jane, and his eyes slide over her slowly. Maura feels herself get warm. "Who do we have here?" he asked, and his voice is deeper. More charming.

"Th-this is Jane," she says, "She's my-"

"girlfriend," Jane growls, stepping a little closer to Maura.

Liam raises his eyebrows, but seems unperturbed. "You haven't met me yet," he smiles, all teeth. Maura wants to knock them out. Her hands curl by her sides, and like an electric shock, she feels a pull.

Liam winces, and his hand goes to his jaw. Jane glances at her, as Liam recovers.

"Liam Tebaldi," he says, like this should ring a bell, and Maura watches with some satisfaction as Jane looks back at him blankly. "Like the construction?" he says, a little put off. "My dad owns the firm."

Maura jerks her fist again, and Liam frowns, working his jaw.

Jane smirks this time, but doesn't look at her doctor. "Oh," she says, "you're the one that Maura says the interns are always talking about." She grins, wide, and he grins back at her, nodding.

"That's not surprising," he says, "Tebaldi's are big names, wherever they go."

"They call you something after that TV program," she says, and Maura chuckles willingly offering up the information for Jane to use. "Greys Anatomy?"

Liam's chest gets a little bigger, "Yeah? Which one am I, then...McDreamy or McSteamy?"

Maura almost laughs, but she forces her face into one of embarrassment. Jane lets her face fall.

"Oh…is that what they're called on there?" she sounds genuinely upset. "No…they call you McGreasy."

She pauses to watch the effect of this revelation on the man in front of her, and as his face shifts from arrogance to shock, to anger and confusion, Maura leans forward and presses a kiss to Jane's cheek. "You shouldn't have told him that, sweetheart," she stage whispers. "When people learn about the names they are called, it can really hurt them."

Liam stares, and Jane tries to look upset. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tibaldi," she says quickly.

He shakes himself, trying to get himself back under control. "I-uh..it's um…doctor," he stutters.

"Doctor," Maura is pulling her away, "Of course," she calls back over her shoulder. "I really am…sorry."

They leave him there, shell shocked, and around the corner, Maura presses Jane against the wall for a kiss. It is hot and deep immediately. "You…shouldn't…have…" she breathes between kisses.

Jane giggles, [you were trying to pull his teeth out, doctor,] the image of his confused face and his hand on his jaw. Jane laughs into her mouth. [I saw your fist. I know what you did]

Maura pulls back, "Was that me?" she is breathless from kissing. From the idea that she can push back against people who want to hurt her.

"Yes," Jane says, looking at her. "Be careful…what would you have done if you'd pulled is teeth out of his head."

Maura shakes her head and then leans it against Jane's shoulder. "He's surrounded by doctors," she says, feeling Jane's arms around her middle, "he would have been fine."

...

She's settling Jane in the doctor's lounge in front of a baseball game, when her pager goes off.

"You'll be alright here?" She heads to the door, "Just change it if you get bored."

But there's the crack of a baseball bat, and Jane's eyes light up. "Woah!" She says, and Maura rolls her eyes, pushing out the door.

She rounds the corner to the ER, calling out for whoever paged her, and is met with a pale blonde intern with huge eyes like a deer.

"B-bay six," she stutters, "Suicide attempt… jumped twenty three stories…"

The doctor looks at the intern, but doesn't snap at her that a man surviving that kind of fall is impossible. "Injuries?" She asks.

The intern looks down at her chart and then back up. She seems to struggle with herself, before finally deciding to just say it.

"All of them, Dr. Isles."

And it's true. As she pulls back the curtain on the man, she realizes three things. First, this man must have at least ten broken bones. Secondly, he must be suffering from massive internal bleeding, and finally that there is nothing she can do for him until Cardio and Ortho have seen to him first. "Paige Montana," she says, stepping back from the man's bed. "And Carter…and find an OR."

"Four is open, Doctor…"

"Good," she turns, "Did anyone come in with him? Does he have family?"

No one answers, and she raises her voice. "The jumper? How is it possible that he could have survived a twenty story drop? Did anyone see him fall?"

Someone behind her answers, and she whirls, because the voice is familiar.

"Why is it, that whenever something freaky happens, I find you, Maura Isles."

Francesco Rizzoli Jr. is standing in the middle of the ER, looking pale and shaky. His badge glitters on his chest.

"Officer Rizzoli," she says, and he looks surprised that she has remembered his name so quickly. She curses herself inwardly. "You saw him fall?"

Frankie nods, but seems unable to find his voice. She approaches him quickly, putting a steadying hand on his forearm. "Here," she says, guiding him into a seat. "Sit here. I'll get you some water."

He doesn't respond, but he looks grateful, and she turns away, heading towards the fountain nearby, her heart starting to pound in her chest.

Frankie pushes his hair out of his face as she returns, and the doctor has to look away. It is a very Jane like gesture. "It's crazy," Frankie says, accepting the glass of water that Maura hands him. "Dude fell like thirty stories. He should fu-" He glances at her, "sorry. He should be dead."

Maura nods. "The body can do miraculous things," she says absently. Although she tries to act as though she is not, she studies him very carefully, his long fingers, and angular jaw, his dark hair and brown eyes. Anyone who saw him next to his sister would be able to identify them as siblings. She rubs her hands together nervously.

In the back of her mind, she feels Jane, watching television in the doctor's lounge, completely engrossed. She smiles absently, and pushes the image away, trying to focus.

"He's lucky you were there," she says into the silence that has grown up around them. "You saved his life."

Frankie drains the water and stands up. He looks at her hard, like he's trying to decide whether or not to say his next sentence. "I don't know what saved his life, Dr. Isles," he says slowly. "But it wasn't me."

.

They are standing between bays in the ER when they hear someone screaming. Frankie looks around at the front door, and his face registers a little bit of horror, and a lot of embarrassment.

"Oh, no," he says, putting a hand to his face. "Oh, no no no, please God."

The doctor looks around at him curiously. "What?" But she doesn't get any further, because a woman bursts through the swinging doors, and even with her flushed face and wild eyes, Maura recognizes her. It is Angela Rizzoli.

"Francesco!" She cries, looking around jerkily. My son was brought in with a man who tried to jump off a building! MY SON!" she screams, "Where is he? Is he alright? Is he-"

But Frankie is rushing forward, "Ma!" he shouts, barely making himself heard over her yells, "MA! I'm right here. I didn't even get hurt, I just rode with the guy! Calm down."

Angela Rizzoli grabs her son by the shoulders, holding him out in front of her while she examines every inch. For a moment, it is silent, and the doctor glances behind her, seeing the interns peeking around the corner from the lounge, looking for the source of the noise.

Then Angela pushes her son away from her, hard, her face going dark with fury.

"Francesco Rizzoli Jr. Do NOT ever scare me like that again. I call the station and they tell me that you're on the way to the hospital with a jumper, what was I supposed to think?"

[Alright?] worried, a little distracted.  
Maura nods, but her heart is pounding painfully in her chest.

"Ma, Jeeze, what are you calling the station for? I have a phone right here!"

"Yes, you do!" Angela screeches, think how happy I would be if you ever _picked it up!_"

A doctor walking by in the opposite direction snickers. Frankie glances up at him, glare ready, but something behind Maura makes him go pale.

"…and I never get any sleep, your job is so dangerous I can't even…" Angela looks up at her son, "and you're not even _listening to me_. You're gawking at some-" But the woman looks around, and her face loses all its color too.

[Alright?] closer now, focused, and Maura turns, knowing what the Rizzoli's have seen, but praying at the same time that she is wrong.

She is not. Jane is standing at the other end of the hall, smiling at her. She waves, and glances up behind the doctor. She sees Frankie, and Angela, and the smile drops from her lips.

It is replaced by terror.

For a moment, Angela Rizzoli just stares, and her eyes seem to get wider and wider. Frankie is frozen next to the doctor, his own brown eyes fixed unblinking on Jane.

Jane stares at Angela, at her mother, for what seems like forever, before her eyes dart to Maura, scared and questioning.

"It can't be…" Angela's voice is just above a whisper. She takes a step forward and Jane takes a step back, eyes still on Maura.

"Look," Maura says quickly, stepping in between them, "Listen…I can explain,"

But Frankie's eyes shift to her, and there is such a fierce look of understanding and anger, that she loses her thought momentarily. And in that split second of silence, as Maura tries to gather herself, Angela lets out a noise somewhere between a howl of pain and a scream of joy. She hurtles across the room, and her arms are open wide, her face alive with a sort of wild happiness or utter dread. She launches herself at the brunette, and she screams.

"JANE!"

* * *

**I'm back...yay?**


	18. Eighteen

One second.

One second. And Dr. Maura Isles has two dozen thoughts, half of them not her own.

Two dozen thoughts and not one of them is joy over the fact that Angela Rizzoli is holding her daughter for the first time in over two decades.

She has twenty four separate thoughts in the space of time it takes to take a breath. To blink. One second, twenty four thoughts…and not a single one of them is happiness.

She manages to convey in time that Jane should not keep this woman from her, should not use her abilities to harm or hinder her in any way, and so Angela makes it all the way down the hall without a struggle, and throws her arms around Jane's shoulders, pulling her into a hug that makes Maura's ribs hurt.

Jane is a whirlwind of contradictions inside of the doctor's head. Angela has her daughter's arms pinned down by her sides, and Maura can feel the Invictu struggle between wanting her arms free so she can push the older woman away, and wanting her arms free so that she can throw them around her mother.

Her mother. Maura's chest could be splitting open. [It's okay, Jane] she tries to push comfort and safety and reassurance, but Jane's overwhelming fear and the underlying current of desperation make it hard.

Angela is sobbing. "You. Is it you? You? are you? Am I? Could it?" the beginnings of sentences she never even allowed herself to hope for. She can't get any of them out. Angela is crying, is heaving with sobs, and Jane stands like a statue in the embrace, eyes still trained on the doctor, waiting for further instructions.

"You…you lied to me," Frankie's accusing hiss makes her look around at him. He has not followed after his mother, but stands looking at her, _glaring_ at her. "You…you've had her? You've had her this whole time? Since I…since I met you in…"

And Maura can't help but wonder if all the Rizzoli's lose their words during moments of extreme emotion.

"I didn't lie to you," she stage whispers back, watching as Angela shoves Jane away from her, hands moving to hold her face. She looks back at Frankie, "I didn't lie to you. The information I asked you for was…"

But Angela cuts her off, calling to her son to come too. "Frankie. Your sister. This is…where have you…could it…how could you…where have you?"  
Maura's heart is pounding painfully in her chest, a problem made doubly worse by the fact that Jane's heart is mirroring hers, speeding up to bang like an echo in the doctor's head. She feels dizzy. She can't hold onto one feeling long enough to make it stick.

Fear Anger Nausea Love Fear Nausea Anger Love they spin through her rapidly, unsettled.

"Let me explain," she says weakly, aware that only Frankie and Jane can hear her over Angela's renewed half questions. "Let me explain," she tries again, her voice hoarse. "Just…come in here, and I'll…I'll explain everything to you."

Jane, who has heard her wish, even if she hasn't heard the words over her mother's sobbing, starts to usher the older woman towards the board room that Maura has indicated. Her movements are deliberate and firm, but undeniably gentle, and Maura understands that even though Jane is scared and unsure, Maura has told her to do no harm. And she obeys.

Frankie stays where he is, staring at the doctor with hard brown eyes. He's appraising her. She wonders what he sees.

"Let me explain," she repeats, a little desperately. "Officer Rizzoli…_Frankie_, please. Come into the board room and let me explain why-"

"You have a good explanation for why you've been hiding my sister for the past eight and a half months?"

His voice pierces her like daggers, and Jane looks around from where she is standing next to Angela, concerned.

[Maura?] the hint of a growl. Protection.

"I'm fine," the doctor responds out loud, and Jane turns away grudgingly.

Frankie scoffs, "How wonderful for you, Dr. Isles. And do you even give a _fuck_ that my mother has been distinctly not fine for the past twenty three years? Did that ever cross your mind?"

He's misunderstood, of course he has. How could he know that she was talking to Jane, that she can hear his sister in her head? Her fear and guilt and Jane's anxiety and nerves are eating at her stomach like acid. She tries to stay calm, feeling Jane's angst lessen a bit at the forced emotion.

"Jane has suffered too, Frankie," she does not know how she manages to stays so calm. "Please. Come in here and listen to what I have to say. You don't have to forgive me."

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his shoulders like his sister. "You don't get to lie to me, to hide my sister away, and then expect me to just fall in line when it's convenient." He steps forward, into her space, and Maura feels Jane growl, a wave of the Invictu's anger washing over her.

She grabs onto it, bending it for her own use.

"You walk out on me and you're walking out on your sister and your mother as well," she hisses, and she gestures into the board room, where Angela is rubbing her cheek against Jane's hand, eyes closed. "You can walk out on me when this is done, and never talk to me again, but you owe it to your family to at least hear me."

Frankie looks past Maura, to where his mother is now fingering Jane's scalp, murmuring something. Maura knows what she's looking for. She remembers the chills that had given her goose bumps when she'd felt it. Jane sits quietly in one of the chairs, wide dark eyes on the doctor.

[Maur?] more questions than language can put names to. More fear, and something stronger...something...gut wrenching.

Maura realizes what it is with a jolt, as Jane pushes matching brown eyes. [I look like my mother.]

Her mother. her mother. And yet, Jane does not like the intimacy of this touch. Is not welcoming.

[It's alright,] Maura pulls on what's left of her strength, forcing herself into gentlness. She feels a little like she's drowning. [Let her.]

"She used to do that to strangers," Frankie says quietly, glancing at Maura. "try to feel for a scar," he clarifies, seeing that she looks lost. "We'd been in the mall, or…at the park. She'd see a little girl who looked like Jane and she would…" His face darkens even more, and Maura has to resist the urge to put her hand on his shoulder.

"Everyone has been hurt by this," she says after a moment, and he turns to focus on her.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

Maura nods. "I do."

"Was it awful?" He sounds scared, like a little boy. Maura hesitates.

"Parts of it," she nods again. "Parts."

Frankie takes a breath, "And…you're sure that's…that's my sister?"

"Yes."

He nods, and for a moment, Maura wishes she could feel what he is feeling, so she would know what to say.

"Alright," he says after a moment, and he steps into the board room. "Alright."

* * *

...

_She is sixteen. She knows she is sixteen because He tells her so. He tells her He is going out to get her a gift, and that when she's done with her morning exercises, they will eat cake and celebrate._

_She asks if they can celebrate with the other children, because surely there must be other children her age to celebrate with. She remembers them, in the hazy memories of infancy, little boys and girls, her age, toddling around her. And if she strains her memory hard she remembers a dark haired baby. She remembers "be careful with your brother!"_

_She looks up at Him, expectant, and He frowns back at her._

_[There are no other children, Jane]_

_she tilts her head. It feels like He is sad. She wants to ask what happened to them, but His eyes forbid her. She looks down at her hands. [Happy Birthday to Jane]_

_It does not feel like a happy day. It feels like any other day. _

_She feels Him soften. [Do your exercises, and then we will celebrate] He pushes an image of something she doesn't understand. Brightly colored round things, floating in midair like magic. She frowns at the image, and looks up, asking._

_He sighs, and she feels a sort of anguished guilt that she does not understand._

_"Balloons," He says, and she bites the inside of her cheek, wary._

_The last time she spoke was more than five years ago. He hit her for it. She pulls her knees up to her chest and keeps quiet._

_[Say it] He commands her, and she shuts her eyes at the ringing He leaves in her head. She feels nauseated, like she's going to throw up. She opens her mouth and the word is forced from her, against her will._

_It is the first time He has controlled her. Ever _

_"Balloons," she chokes, and at once He is sorry. She retches but He doesn't move to her and when she's gained control of herself again, she looks up at Him through watery eyes. He won't meet her gaze._

_"Do your work out," He commands her aloud, pushing what He wants along with the words.  
She nods, standing up, and He watches her begin her first stretch before hurrying out of the room._

_._

_He does return, as promised, with cake, and one silver balloon, suspended from a string. She has never seen anything so beautiful in her life._

_[How does it do that? Are you making it do that?]_

_He shakes His head, "Helium is lighter than air, so it rises," He says and she looks at Him blankly, not understanding._

_He sighs, and she can feel the parts of His mind shift, hiding something from her. He gestures, and she comes to sit down next to Him. She is still sweaty from her workout, tank top stuck to her on her back and stomach, and for a moment He just looks at her._

_[Do you like it here?]_

_She frowns. It's a stupid question. [I don't know. what is elsewhere like?]_

_He chuckles, "too smart," He mutters. She cocks her head._

_[Do you want to leave?]_

_She shakes her head at once. [I don't want to leave you] fear, strong and instant._

_He turns to look at her, His eyes moving from her legs, bare and muscled, cross legged on the couch, to her stomach and her chest and her eyes, landing finally on her hand, curled into a fist around the string of her balloon. His frown deepens. He looks like he's fighting with himself._

_[There are many things I can't…that I shouldn't…teach you.]_

_She shrugs. [What is it I need to know?]_

_He looks at her, and if He can feel her trust, complete and absolute, it only serves to make Him madder. He moves closer to her, and their proximity to each other seems to speed up His heart. She wants to pull back, but something keeps her from doing so._

_[You are being deprived of a great many things]_

_The man who left this morning to get her cake, to bring this wondrous balloon back to her, that man is not the same one sitting across from her now, with His wild eyes and His heavy breathing._

_She is not afraid. She has never been afraid of Him. She is curious._

_[Where did you go today, that has you talking about what I need?] she wants to add, 'that has you speaking' but she does not._

_For one second it looks like He's going to tell her. And then He shakes His head slightly, and she catches the end of His thought, like the tail end of a revolving fan._

_…wouldn't have you back now anyway]_

_Her eyes widen because it stings, that fragment. But she doesn't have time to figure out what it could mean, or even to set it to memory, because at that moment He leans forward and presses his lips to hers, hard._

_The silver balloon bursts apart, into pieces. _

* * *

_..._

Frankie yelling is what brings Jane out of her reverie. Maura watches her eyes refocus and lock onto Frankie as he leaps from his chair, pointing at the doctor.

"This is the biggest bunch of bullshit I've ever heard in my life," he yells, and he looks just as surprised at the volume of his voice as the women in the room. Maura feels Jane glower.

[it's okay] the pushes independence. She can take care of herself. "It's the truth," she says aloud, and Frankie laughs harshly.

"We're just supposed to believe that some crazy cult leader stole my sister and turned her into...into..." He casts around, and Jane's glower deepens.

"It's the truth." The doctor switches her focus to Angela Rizzoli, who is sitting as still as a statue in the high backed chair, staring at the dark wood of the table.

"Angela, I-I tried to tell you that day...when I came to your-"

"Bullshit," Frankie rounds the table towards Maura. Jane twitches.

[It's okay] Maura sends it again, a little harder, putting up her hand. Jane clenches her jaws and holds still, eyes on Frankie. Her brother.

"Ma," Frankie rounds on his mother, "Ma. You don't believe this shit, do you?"

Angela looks at her son, "Watch your mouth Francesco, in front of your sister."

"But, you don't believe all this crap that-"

"This is my daughter?" Angela looks at the doctor, and then her eyes move to take in Jane. "You're my daughter?"

Jane looks at Maura, who nods. Jane nods too. "I'm Jane."

Angela's eyes fill with tears.

"_MA_!" Frankie slams his hand down on the table, and everyone jumps. "You can't honestly believe that this is your daughter...that she's been turned into some kind of telekinetic...levitation...sort of..."

But Angela is waving him away, "It doesn't matter," she looks at Jane, holding her hands out. "It doesn't matter what has happened, it doesn't matter where you've been or what's happened. You're here now! You're here now and we'll take care of you."

Maura frowns, panic shooting through her now for a brand new reason. She looks between Frankie and Angela, and she can't figure out which reaction she is more afraid of, Frankie's anger or Angela's dismissal.

"She can show you!" It's out of the doctors mouth before she can help it, and all three Rizzolis look around at her with matching expressions of shock.

[Show them?] Jane pushes fear, she pushes hunted, she pushes starting over...again.

"Show us?" Frankie's voice is high. He starts towards her again. "She can show us this...freak show magic you _say _she has?" He stops, looking over his shoulder at Jane. "Well let's see it then, _sister. _Let's see you...turn this table over. Lift me up into the air...Blow the fucking windows out of the door! Let's SEE it!"

Jane looks at Maura.

"Don't look at her! She's the one who got you in to this mess. She's the one fucking lying on you, telling your family some cock and bull story about how you can move objects with your mind."

"Frankie," Angela hisses, "watch your language."

"Watch MY language? What about the _doctor's _language? She's the one feeding us..._SHIT!" _

"I said you watch your language right now!"

Jane's eyes flick back and forth between her brother and her mother, and the doctor can feel it building in the pit of her stomach. Over stimulation. Too much information in a short amount of time.

"Stop," she says firmly, but neither Rizzoli listens. Instead, their voices rise, higher and higher, and Jane's breathing gets more and more shallow.

"Stop!" Maura says again, knowing that neither brother nor mother can hear her. Frankie is shouting loudest of all, and his eyes swing to take in the doctor.  
"AND YOU THINK THAT THIS IS MY SISTER JUST BECAUSE SOME CRACK POT FUCKING DOCTOR-"

But that's the end.

[STOP]

Jane. Loud and terrible in everyone's head. the brunette pushes both her hands out, and Frankie is shoved backwards, so hard that the chair he falls into skids back a few feet. [STOP] again. Rumbling like thunder. The table shudders, lifts six inches of the floor and slams back down onto the floor.

Silence. Frankie's face is whiter than snow.

Angela's mouth is hanging open.

Jane is breathing hard. So is Maura.

The Invictu comes to stand near her doctor. They don't touch. They don't need to. Maura knows everything she needs to just from looking into Jane's face.

For a moment they all stand there, Frankie speechless and Angela gawking. And then the older woman stands. She pats at her hair and then presses her hand together. She starts towards the door.

"It doesn't matter," she says quickly. "It doesn't matter honey. Come on. You're home now."

Maura moves forward a step, "Mrs. Rizzoli-"

But Angela turns away, starting towards the door of the conference room. "Come _on_, Jane," We're going home. We'll deal with this when we get home."

Jane, standing next to Maura, doesn't move. Maura feels confusion, like a foggy day. She doesn't know what to do, and Maura looks around at her, meeting her dark eyes, full of questions. She tries to smile, even if it feels like she's breaking. This is the right thing, isn't it? These women have been separated from each other for twenty three years. They should be together now, shouldn't they?

And what of the fact that she spent six months...waiting.

[You are my family] Jane pushes it firmly. Maura swallows, watching as Angela glances over her shoulder, stopping when she realizes that Jane isn't following.

"Janie, come on. We're going home."

Jane shakes her head slowly, and Maura can see that her hands are shaking. She wants to reach out and hold them, reassure her that she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to, not anymore…

But this might be a lie. She blinks, trying to find some comfort of her own to give.

[I love you, Jane] a little hard, but very true. [whatever you choose, it's alright]

The doctor wants to throw up.

"I have a home," Jane's voice is slow, a little tremulous, but clear and unargumentative.

Angela's face colors anyway, as if Jane has said something blasphemous.

"With me!" Angela says, and for a moment Maura thinks that she is the one who has shouted that out loud.

Jane winces, but shakes her head again in that same, slow way. She steps closer to Maura, and here at last is a thought she can hold on to. She looks up at Jane as she looks at her mother.

"No."

Frankie makes a sound between a scoff of indifference and a moan of pain. He heads towards the door.

"Frankie," Maura reaches for him, but he shakes his head, stepping out of her grasp. He points at her, and for a moment, it looks like he's going to say something. But then he stalks past them and out into the hall.

Angela seems torn, and she takes two faltering steps after her son before changing her mind before changing her mind and coming to lay her hand on the side of Jane's face.

The Invictu shivers, but makes no move to repel her mother.

They stand there like that for a long minute, and Maura feels like she is watching a scene she has not right to.

"Janie," quiet and gentle. Pained

"Mother." Jane says, but her voice is curious and a little scared. Nothing else.

Angela pulls her hand back like she's been burned. She looks at Maura.

"You know where we live," she says quickly, and just like that, she is gone.

.

For a moment, they stand together in the board room, doctor and Invictu.

Jane puts her lips to Maura's forehead, and both of them catch their breath at the surge of feelings.

"I-I have a patient," Maura says, and she can feel herself pulling on Jane's comfort, making it her own.

Jane smiles faintly. "okay."

But neither moves.

"Jane," Maura takes a deep breath. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't say this. "You can...you can go. They're your family and I would never-"

But Jane cuts her doctor off with her lips, and Maura is falling.

"Hey," Jane says as she pulls away, and Maura looks up to see her smiling. She wraps her arms around Maura's waist, pulling them closer.

"Hey," she says quietly, giving Maura a squeeze, "We know where they live."

* * *

**member that story I wrote one time? before my life went crazy? yeah...here's another chapter...**


	19. Nineteen

_They hook him up to machines. There is one that breathes for him, one that filters his blood and even one that takes a shit for him. He is supposed to be unconscious. Well, he is supposed to be dead, but barring that…he should be in the deep medicated sleep of an induced coma._

_But he is not._

_He can hear the doctors murmuring over him, the words miracle and amazing and medical anomaly. There is one doctor who leans so close that he can feel the breath on his forehead, and he wonders if the doctor is trying to glean the reason for his survival simply by proximity. The attention should bring him comfort. It should make him feel better that there is a literal fleet of doctors on his side, fighting to bring him back from the dead._

_It does not. It is not as though, when they do succeed in reviving him fully, that he will be able to tell them what is binding him to life. He will not be able to explain that he has come through fire and torture and has fallen twenty stories, and has not yet succeeded in dying because another human binds him to life._

_He lies there for hours, trying to name all the doctors that must be working on his case. He tries to guess them by the way they sound coming into his room. He imagines that the cardiologist is the light footsteps that come early in the day, a doctor who deals with hearts is likely to be fit and trim, lithe and limber. the Ortho surgeon must be the one who walks slowly, and surely. Confident, giving everyone a chance to see him. And the neurologist. Sometimes he doesn't even realize this doctor is in the room until hands are on his forehead, and fingers are peeling back his eyelids._

_He passes his time this way, trying to make out their mumbling, and exclamations, straining to tell dusk from dawn, and wondering where She is. If he'll ever see Her again._

_And then the new doctor comes._

_And he has no time, to do anything but seethe._

* * *

_..._

It's three days before Maura Isles will admit to herself that she hates her patient, hates him, with a sort of visceral, intense, ugly feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hates this man. She tries to fight it, but it is like fighting the urge to be sick. She tells herself that what she feels is not hatred, but a deep sort of bitter sympathy for a life that will be so fraught with pain and struggle. She tries to talk herself down. She is not this type of person. She is clinical and rational and she has taken an oath to do no harm. But every time she sees him, something stirs inside of her, coiled and smooth like a snake.

And she hates.

She doesn't know if this reaction is due to the fact that he manages to cling to life so furiously, when his body clearly wishes to give up. He crashes three times in the first twenty four hours, and the last time, she is looking up towards the clock on the wall in order to give time of death, holding the paddles which have already been charged to some ludicrous amount, when his heart jumps back to life, making the monitor whine its strange and high pitched sound out to the room at large.

She'd stared, first at him and then at the nurse.

"He's a fighter," the nurse had said admirably, and Dr. Isles had forced herself to look back down into his bruised and mangled face.

"Yes," she'd said coldly, "I suppose he is. Page the cardiologist."

The cardiologists name is Trevor and he is at a loss too. He stares down at the man, this John Doe, and he says, "his heart should not keep going." He looks up at Maura with bug eyes like a fish, excited and awed, and her misplaced anger bubbles over at him.

"Yes, I'm aware. I also went to medical school."

He looks stung, but unsurprised, and he bends back down over the patient. "You keep fighting, buddy, hear me?"

The heart monitor jumps as though he can hear the request. Maura's discomfort increases.

"You keep fighting and you open your eyes. There is an entire conference of cardiologists who want to study your heart."

"So the rhythm is regular then?" Maura asks impatiently. She wants to be done with this. She wants to go home to where her Invictu is waiting for her, devouring her bookshelf and memorizing baseball stats, and something about this man makes her want to see Jane more fiercely than normal. To put hands on her. Claim her.

The connection between them is growing steadily, and just thinking of Jane causes the doctor to feel the other woman's presence like a second part of herself.

The orthopedic surgeon's name is Lansing, and he spends twenty two hours building the man a new skeleton. He rebuilds a ribcage from nothing; he inserts twenty two screws. He finishes and comes out into the hallway and takes a bow in front of the nurse's station. He looks smug when they applaud him.

"My greatest work to date," he says, brushing past her, arrogant as always. "I've built you a bionic man."

She does what she's supposed to do, as the lead on his case, of course she does. She prides herself on her work and her ability to maintain her composure. She coordinates his care, she checks his vitals (vitals! The man has vitals) and she monitors his IV. But all the while his presence pushes at her insides, like an actual hand on her breastplate, and on the third day, as she is recording something in the chart at the foot of his bed, his hand twitches, catching her eye. As she watches again, his fingers jerk again, as if he is trying to get her attention, and she is filled with repulsion, hot and tight like a sunburn. She cannot deny it any longer. She comes around to the side of his bed quickly, leaning right down next to him.

"I hate you," she whispers, and the ferocity in her voice startles her.

The man doesn't move.

She has taken an oath to do no harm, so she doesn't, but it is only the fear of being found out that keeps her from doing it.

"I hate you," she says again, almost savagely, and she would be afraid of her own vehemence if she could be. If this feeling wasn't so consuming.

There is no answer, but Maura wasn't expecting one. She turns away from him, fury and confusion pounding through her. She manages not to slam the door to his room behind her. She is struck by a thought, as she moves off down the hall, and the feeling in her chest loosens, and guilt begins to worm its way up the back of her neck. She thinks that when this man wakes up, he is going to hate her too.

...

The further away she gets from the hospital, the more the feeling melts, and by the time she pushes in the door to her brownstone, she feels perfectly normal again. She resolves to put the patient from her mind, he has nothing to do with her, and she has more pressing matters to deal with.

Jane. Her Invictu. Maura can feel her before she even starts up the front steps.

It has been almost a week since the scene with Jane's mother and brother in the hospital, and neither Jane, nor her family has made any move to reach out.

Jane's refusal to do so is firm and stony, lined with fear and pride, and although Maura can feel all those emotions inside of her girlfriend, she does not know how to change or even address them. She can feel Jane's fear, on the rare occasion that she brings it up, and she knows that the brunette is waiting for Maura to suggest something, to take the lead.

The doctor cannot manage to do so. It is nice…simply…nice, to come home in the evenings to a warm house, where someone is waiting for her. It is nice to know that Jane's love involves her and her alone. It is nice to field questions about garbage trucks and the purpose of an umbrella. She doesn't want to miss a moment of Jane's discovery of the world.

She doesn't want to share it, not any more than she has to.

Now she stands in the hallway, listening to Jane and Frost arguing in the hallway. The young officer will often drop by during the week, hoping for baseball talk and a home cooked meal. Maura grins as Frosts cry rings into the hall.

"You're full of crap!" Frost's tone is playful.

"No," Jane, trying to stay serious, "I swear that-" but she breaks off abruptly, and Maura feels a wash of joy and affection like a shower without water. She bites her lip to keep from sighing.

[Hello, Jane.]

"Maura's home?" Frost must be able to tell by her face, and when she rounds the corner, both Frost and Jane are looking up at her with wide smiles.

And there's someone else, she realizes, as Jane gets up to embrace her.

"Vince!" Her surprise at seeing him and the tiny explosion of contentment when Jane's fingers touch hers, make her feel a little light headed. "How good to see you!"

Korsak waits his turn to hug her, grinning as he releases her. "You look well, Doc," He says, "You all do. It's good to see you."

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Maura asks, reaching out for Jane again. The brunette comes at once, wrapping an arm around Maura's waist. Korsak watches the action, pausing for a moment before looking back up into the doctor's face.

"New York might actually become my permanent place of residence in the not too distant future," he says smiling again, "the NYPD has offered me a job."

Frost whoops. Jane's eyes get huge.

Maura nods, happy too. "Congratulations! You'll have to tell us all about it."

"Stay for dinner," Jane says, slinging an arm around Frost. "Both. Stay."

And Maura nods, feeling too content and too at peace to urge Jane into complete sentences just now.

.

Dinner is loud.

Jane and Frost argue and make up within the space of minutes, punching at each other like a brother and sister would. At one point Frost is gesticulating so wildly that he knocks his beer nearly over onto the table.

"Oh-" Maura says, but the exclamation has barely left her lips, before Jane has frozen both the bottle and its contents in midair. She throws a cocky look at Maura, who rolls her eyes.

"Just because you can do that, Jane Rizzoli, does not give you two license to act like children," she smiles as Jane puts out her best puppy dog eyes. Frost, seeing this, quickly makes his own.

Maura laughs, "I am not your mother!" she chastises, and Jane laughs, leaning over to kiss her quickly on the cheek before turning back to Frost.

They talk and they laugh and they eat and talk and eat some more, until there is no more food, and Frost is pulling Jane into the living room to turn on the Yankee/Red Sox game.

Maura smiles after them, ignoring her wish to follow, and moves to clear the table.

"Let me help you," Korsak says, standing too, and he gathers several plates into his arms and follows her into the kitchen.

No sooner are they there, then Maura turns on him, slight smile on her face.

"Alright, Vince," she says now, turning to face him. "What is it you want to tell me?"

Korsak looks a little stunned and mostly guilty. "How did you know I wanted to tell you anything?"

Maura smiles, "You've been casting me pensive looks all evening. It doesn't take a mind reader, or even an Invictu to tell you've got something on your mind." Indeed, all through the evening, Maura had felt Korsak's eyes on her, watching her hands as they strayed to the back of Jane's neck, or her eyes as they snapped shut at the feel of Jane's lips on her skin.

Korsak shuffles his feet, caught. "I wanted to wait until the right time."

"No time like the present," She says, trying to fight the impending sense of doom.

Vince leans up against her counter, wringing his hands. "You know they offered me a job in NY Homicide."

"Yes," Maura says carefully, "an adjunct position, didn't you say?"

Korsak nods, "Support staff, investigational operations, yes…" he trails off, and Maura watches him, waiting. "Well," he picks up after a moment, "It looks like I'm going to say yes."

Maura smiles, still not entirely sure where the conversation is headed. "That's wonderful! You'll be here in the city with us. We'll be able to…to get together," her smile fades as she watches him. "But that's not why you're telling me this…"

"No."

A beat of silence in which Jane can be heard yelling at the TV in the living room.

"Well, come on, Vince, spit it out. Surely it can't be as bad as you're making it out to be."

He looks up at her. "I want Jane to come and work with me."

For a moment, Maura isn't sure she's heard correctly. Jane? Working with Korsak? That doesn't sound so…but then she understands fully.

"At the NYPD."

"For the NYPD," he clarifies, "there's a big difference."

"There is a difference," Maura says, firing up, "I'm not sure that it's a big one…Vince, have you lost your mind?"

"No. I think she'd be spectacular at it, and not just because of her abilities. Her brother is one of the most dedicated cops-"

"You want to put her in a government run agency? You want to put her right under the nose of the very people she's been running from?" Maura's annoyance starts to bubble over into anger…that seems to happen a lot lately. "That's insanity."

"It could be genius," he holds up his hands, and Maura tries to interrupt him. "No, Doc, listen. She's got to get out into the world sometime," Maura colors at this. In the back of her mind she can feel Jane's attention shift slightly. She ignores it.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Korsak eyes her warily, clearly trying to decide what to say and what to keep to himself.

"Just spit it out," she says impatiently, and he blinks at her.

"It means she's a human. She's a talented, strong, able woman, and we need to find her something at some point. Wouldn't you rather she work around people that she knows? Who can look out for her?"

Realization stings at Maura's insides. "Barry is in on this too."

Korsak meets her eyes for the briefest of moments. "He…thinks it's a good idea."

"I see," Maura's voice is icy. Jane's interest sharpens.

[Alright?]

"So this is what…an ambush?"

But Korsak changes his approach. "What does Jane do here, while you're at work?"

Maura smiles fondly, thinking of the half hazy images of TV shows, or book passages that the brunette will send to her throughout the day. "She finds things that keep her busy."

"Is she working out?"

Maura returns her focus to the man in front of her, "What?"

"Is she working out? Exercising?"

"I…"

"You know how important that is for someone like her." Korsak pushes, "When was the last time she was out of the house?"

Maura frowns, last weekend they'd gone to the Met, but since then… "It's dangerous for her to be out there by herself. She doesn't understand a lot of the world, even still, and I-"

But Korsak interrupts her again. "Has she had any more contact with her family? Barry told me what happened at the hospital."

Maura shakes her head, "She doesn't want-"

"Don't give me that. You know, better than anyone what she wants." He pauses, and the decides to go for it. "Maura…you understand what I'm saying. You can see what you're doing, can't you?"

Maura feels frozen with fury and understanding. She glares hard at Korsak, but he does not back down.

"You're accusing me of keeping her prisoner here. Like Beckett and Pazerretti," her voice is low and angry. Korsak doesn't seem bothered.

"I think you love her so fiercely, " he says slowly, "and are so afraid of losing her again, that you cannot see what might be…" he pauses and seems to gather himself. "Best," he finishes.

Maura stands stock still in the kitchen, trying to rein in her indignation. But she does not get a chance to respond, because Jane appears in the doorway behind Korsak, eyes dark and confused.

"Alright?" She asks the room at large, and she brushes by Korsak to wrap her arms around her doctor.

Maura experiences a jolt of pleasure and fierce loyalty, not her own, followed by a wave of guilt and shame…totally her own.

"Yes, honey, we're fine," she says allowing herself to press her hands against Jane's back and pull some of her comfort. "We're just talking about Vince's job, and I'm worried it might be dangerous."

Jane accepts this as the truth, turning good naturedly to the older man. "How come you are always disrupting my woman?" she says, grinning, and the thrill of excitement that runs up Maura's spine at the possessive term makes her hiccup in surprise.

"You know me," Vince says glance at Maura before smiling back at Jane.

"I'm a ladykiller."

Jane laughs, pulling away from Maura to rummage around in the freeze, looking for ice cream.

She pulls back with her favorite, Rocky Road, looking smug.

"You're something, certainly" she says, beckoning a spoon through the air.

"But ladykiller is definitely not it."

…

"Do you love me?" Maura keeps her eyes shut, even when she feels Jane pull away from her. The covers of the bed rise up and settle around them, even though Maura can feel Jane's hands firmly on her waist.

[yes.] gentle, before her voice chimes in to make it official. "Desperately."

Maura opens her eyes suddenly. "That's not a good way to describe love, Jane," she says, fighting not to give into the kisses that her Invictu is planting along her collarbone.

[Sorry] But she's not sorry. Maura can feel it. Jane is still teasing her, not paying attention.

"Jane," she says, and the urgency and seriousness of her voice make the brunette freeze. "Jane," she tries again, gentler this time, pushing the muscular shoulders away from her so that they are face to face. "Can I ask you something?"

Jane flops onto her back with a sigh. Maura feels a twinge of frustration. The answer comes grudgingly. "Sure."

"Do you…" she pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase the question to get the answer she wants. "How was loving Pazerretti different from the way you love me?"

Next to her, the Invictu tenses. She is silent for a long time, and Maura can feel her thoughts and emotions like she's caught in a snowstorm. Everything is static.

[You give me a choice]

It comes with a burst of open air. Like freedom.

It is the last thing that Maura wants to hear. She pushes a little harder. "Do I?"

Next to her, the Invictu nods.

"Tell me," she says, "How?"

Jane pushes doors that open, shopping, dinner parties with Frost, her visit to the hospital, but the statement is so simple that Maura waits for the rest for a while before realizing that it's only those four words.

[you don't keep me]

Maura sighs, lifting her arm to drape it over her eyes. Jane rolls onto her side, concerned. "Maura?"

"I can feel that you want to see you mother and brother again, Jane," she says quietly. "I can feel that need in you…and that you're too frightened." Jane rankles a bit at this, but Maura ignores her, "But I haven't done anything about it. I..I don't want to share you. How is that not keeping you?"

There is silence for a moment, and the bed shifts, and Maura is certain that Jane is going to get out of bed and leave her. But then she feels two lips on her chin…an arm wrapping around her waist.

[It's okay] forgiveness for the admission, comfort, and love. Maura does not feel as though she deserves any of it.

"You're inside of me," she says, pushing because she can't _not _know. "You have no choice but to love me."

"Wrong," Jane's answer is immediate and fierce. She grips Maura tighter. "You are wrong," she repeats, and there's something about her inexperience with contractions that makes Maura believe it. "I have no choice but to protect you, to fight the things that hurt you. To make sure you are safe." She pauses, and her lips on Maura's neck are like buoys. They keep the doctor from sinking.

"I could do all of that without loving you, Maura," she whispers. "I can go out into the world and meet all the other people in it…and I would still come back to you."

And something in Maura is releasing, like the breaking of a seal or the snapping of a rubber band. She rolls over and into Jane's arms, crying from relief and happiness and guilt. Crying because there are too many emotions in her body right. at. that. moment.

Crying because she has someone to share them with. at last.

* * *

**We're running into the home stretch friends! PM me if you have a guess as to where we're going. don't blow up my spot in the reviews. Thank you, as ever, for the wonderful, wonderful support and love and...GD, you guys, it makes me teary. I've been struggling, some of you know, and some of you guessed. and the way you've come out for me...**

**It makes me feel very very loved. **

**happy reading. **

**tc**


	20. Twenty

Maura comes up behind Jane, wrapping her arms around the slender waist and glancing at the brunette's reflection in the mirror.

Jane grins at her, eyes sparkling. [How do I look?]

Maura tugs gently at the lapel of the blazer, letting her eyes wander over the rest of her Invictu's outfit, dark wash jeans, combat boots, dark blue v-neck. Maura reaches her other hand around to run her finger over the scar that disappears under the cotton collar. "You look like someone that I wouldn't want to mess with," she says truthfully, and Jane's grin widens.

"Cool," she says out loud, and Maura can't help but chuckle a little before sobering.

"Even still," she says quietly, kissing the shoulder in front of her and locking eyes with Jane in the mirror. "You'll be careful, won't you?"

Jane spins, catching the doctor around the waist as well. [I'm not even going to be in danger.]

Maura frowns, pushing the crisp blue of the police uniform. The start red of blood. [They go together] is what she is saying.

Jane's grip tightens. "I'll just be watching interrogations with Korsak. Looking at evidence," She catches the doctor's eye. "Just looking, Maura," She repeats.

Maura nods grudgingly, "For now, Jane," she says lowly, "Don't think I don't know that Korsak's end game is to get you into the Academy. It doesn't take a mind reader."

Jane steps away from the mirror, bending to tie her shoe. "That's if I like it," she says, but both women know that Jane is going to like it. Both women know that she is going to love it.

Maura comes to sit down next to her. She takes one of Jane's hands in her own, kissing the scars on both sides. Jane doesn't flinch and Maura knows that it doesn't hurt, but she can still feel the brunette's muscles contract beside her.

"Jane," she says softly, "You're not responsible for what Beckett was doing."

The Invictu pulls her hand away like she's been burned, looking shocked and angry. Maura doesn't back down. "You don't have to make amends for what he did. You don't have anything to repay. You don't have anything to prove to anybody."

Jane stands up abruptly, striding across the room and then back several times before speaking.

"It's not about that…I'm a monster," she says, and her words are quiet enough that Maura has to lean in.

"What?"

"I'm a monster, Maura."

The doctor stands too, moving towards the taller woman. "You are _no-"_

"It's the closest word there is to describing me," she cuts in, holding up her hands, "Freak . Noun. React or behave in a wild and irrational way, typically because of the effects of extreme emotion, mental illness, or drugs," Jane recites. "That's the next closest, but monster, noun, An imaginary creature that is typically large, ugly, and frightening, that's the best one for me, isn't it, Maur?"

Maura stands gaping. "When did you-"

Jane shrugs, "Invictu isn't a word. It doesn't exist. If I tell people I'm an Invictu, they won't understand. But monster-"

"You're _not _a-" Maura starts again, but Jane cuts her off again.

"I'm an imaginary creature! I frighten people! My own mother and brother were terrified of me." Sadness hits Maura. A deep blue waterfall. It lingers even after the words have faded.

Maura reaches out, "only because they don't know you. Only because of what they see on the surface."

"That's just it, Maur. What if I change the surface. What if I make it so people see something good and noble first? Then…" Jane looks down at her hands, "Then I'm not a monster…I'm just…an alien."

And Maura half smiles, holding out her hands, her eyes dropping shut as Jane steps into them.

"No more dictionary reading," she says breathing deeply, "No more dictionary reading for you, Jane Rizzoli."

She feels Jane's smile inside her, like her own feelings have feelings.

"Clarity of language, Doctor," Jane mumbles back.

.

Korsak and Frost arrive thirty five minutes later, and when they trudge down the hall and around the corner to the kitchen, it is to see Jane and Maura at the breakfast bar, both focused intently on Maura's tea cup. [Maura is attempting to remove the tea bag without touching it] Jane fills them in as they draw nearer.

Frost nods and Korsak strokes his stubble. "Can she do that?"

Maura glances up at him. "Pazerretti had powers not unlike Jane's," she says before turning her attention back to the cup.

"Pazerretti dumped _dozens _ of liters of blood into her system."

"So did I."

"twenty two years ago."

"Hush," Maura says resolutely. "I almost pulled a man's teeth out the other day. Stop distracting me."

For a moment, the four of them are absolutely silent, staring at the cup on the counter. And then, with a little gasp from Maura, the tea bag lifts slowly out of the dark brown water.

"Holy…" Korsak says, eyes wide.

"Shit," Frost says, and the tea bag drops back into the tea with a plop as Jane pulls Maura into her arms.

"You did it!"

"That was much more difficult than with the intern," she says a little breathless.

Jane nods, "no hard emotion to use," she explains, and Maura nods too, thoughtful.

"Proud anyway," Jane murmurs, pressing a kiss to the doctor's nose.

"Uh, ladies," Korsak intervenes. "As adorable as you two are together…we need to get going."

Jane leads Frost out into the hall, but Maura holds Korsak back by his arm. Vince looks at her, his face already softening. "You worry too much, Doctor."

But Maura narrows her eyes, "If something happens to her out there."

"Nothing's going to happen. Read some files, get a feeling off some perps. She's a human lie detector, doc."

Maura stands her ground. "If something happens to her, Vince," she says firmly, and she clenches her fist. Korsak stumbles back like she's pushed him.

"Alright," He says good-naturedly. "Alright, alright. I will take good, good care of her, Maura. I promise."

"You know what she means to me," Maura says, and it might be a bit of a cheap shot, but she doesn't care.  
Korsak looks at her sharply, before nodding again. "Yeah," he says gruffly. "I know." He heads towards the hall after Frost and Jane. "we'll see you later, Doc, okay?"

She nods, watching him out of sight.

She hears the click of the door as it slides shut and for a moment, she stands in her empty house, sadness gripping her like the hand of a giant. But then she hears the door swing back open and thud against the hallway wall hard enough that there might be a mark, but Maura doesn't care because Jane has flown around the corner and wrapped Maura up in a hug.

[You thought I forgot] playful and warm and snug enough to get lost in. Maura sighs, hugging back hard.

"A little," she admits.

Jane pulls back and presses their lips together. The stools around the breakfast bar tumble over with a clatter.

[Sorry!] Jane sends over her shoulder, already heading back towards the door. She's not sorry at all, and Maura smiles as she bends to right the first stool.

She isn't sorry either.

...

* * *

...

It is less complicated to find Angela Rizzoli than Maura had anticipated, and so, rather sooner than she would like, Maura is standing at the end of the frozen foods aisle, watching her Invictu's mother picking out bags of frozen vegetables.

For a moment, the doctor just watches, feeling fear in her stomach like indigestion. This had seemed like a good idea in the car, the feel of Jane's lips against hers still hot and lingering like a shot of whiskey. But now, it seems foolish. What can she say to this woman that won't sound hollow and condescending. She lost Jane for six months and she thought the pain would kill her. How can she begin to approach this woman, this _mother, _who has not seen Jane for more than two decades. She almost turns and leaves twice, almost manages to convince herself that her girlfriend wouldn't like them talking without her knowledge. But the image of Jane's face when she'd called herself a monster, makes her turn around both times, and finally, with one deep breath, Maura makes her way down the row stopping in front of Angela's cart.

She opens her mouth to speak, but the older woman beats her to it, not taking her eyes off the freezer in front of her.

"I thought you would lose your nerve."

Maura's eyes widen. "I…uh…didn't know…If I should bother-"

"I don't think there are many things, you don't know, Dr. Isles." Angela says, still not looking at her. "You've come to, what, speak to me about Jane."

Maura blinks several times, as though the action might restart her brain. "Jane is…" she begins, but finds that there are too many ways to finish that sentence. She shrugs her shoulders hopelessly, wondering for the hundredth time why she came.

She turns away, trying to keep the tears at bay until she is at least out of sight.

"She was small, for four," Angela Rizzoli speaks without warning, and so Maura almost misses the sentence entirely. She spins back around.

"Excuse-" she begins, stepping back, but the older woman is already speaking again, her eyes fixed on the food in front of them, as if Maura does not exist.

"She was a round, pudgy baby, but by the time she was walking…by the time Francesco Jr. came along, she was skinny, running around everywhere."

Maura looks down at her feet, biting her lip. She wants to say something to this woman, wants to say lots of things , but she keeps her mouth shut, knowing that this is not the time.

"We went to Vermont for Christmas. We always went to Vermont for Christmas, Frank has a cabin up there, and it was nice to get away from the bustle of the city for a couple of days." Angela turns a little away from the doctor, her eyes unfocused, staring at nothing. "We always had fun, Frank and I. And then when Janie came along, we had even more fun. We could chop our own tree down, and Frank always let Jane pick which one we brought home." the older woman swallows hard. "We would go sledding. We would drink hot chocolate and watch Miracle on 34th Street. And when Frankie came along, it was like…it was like everything was falling perfectly into place. We were…" she shakes her head, like she's dragging herself back to the present.

"And then…we were coming home that night, and Frankie was sleeping but Jane wouldn't go down. She was cranky. Overtired. The heat wasn't working in the back, and she was chilly. She wanted to sit on my lap, and Frank didn't want to pull over so I could get into the back…"

Maura shivers, and it's like she can see the little car as it speeds along the icy road, the four year old Jane Rizzoli crawling, crab like, over the armrest that separates the passenger seat from the driver's. She can see the little brunette girl as she snuggles down against the warmth of her mother, happy, and maybe a little smug that she has gotten her way.

"I should have slipped the seatbelt around her. I should have made Frank pull over," Angela's voice is choked, and when Maura looks up at her she can tell she's struggling to keep her composure. The look is identical to Jane's.

"I thought," Angela looks up into Maura's face. "I thought that if she came back…if she wasn't really dead…we could start over. We could…we could get back the time we lost." She shakes her head, "Frank wouldn't let me see her. He said she was too badly injured. That he could barely recognize her…for months I thought, 'the doctor will call and say there was a mistake. He'll bring my little girl back to me and she will be real and whole and…" Angela blinks and her hands clench and unclench at her side, like she's redoubling her grip on an invisible child. "A mother knows when her child is dead…but Jane didn't feel dead to me, Dr. Isles."

Maura nods without conscious thought. "She wasn't. She wasn't dead."

But Angela doesn't look comforted. "But all those awful things that happened to her. That that man did to her…She was close to it wasn't she? Many times?" And the older woman fixes he with such a gaze that Maura cannot even contemplate lying.

"Yes."

"She…she was part of a cult," Angela says, "All those things you told us in the board room…"

Maura nods again, "Yes…they are all true. I heard myself saying those words, and they seemed like something out of the pages of a book. But your daughter-"

"But she's not!" Angela bursts out, and a passerby speeds up, keen to avoid what looks like a fight. "she's not my little girl anymore. She hasn't even got my blood in her veins anymore does she?" Mrs. Rizzoli looks bitter for a moment. "She was more connected to-to that awful, thieving…She's more connected to _you_ than she is to me now, isn't she?"

Maura doesn't answer, and Angela takes a step closer to her. "Isn't she?"

Maura opens her mouth, and then shuts it again. There is nothing but the truth to respond with, and the doctor knows saying it aloud with hinder more than help.

Maura waits, but it seems like Angela has talked herself out. After a moment she reaches out, like she would pull open one of the doors to the frozen shelves, but her hand goes to her head instead, covering her eyes.

Maura reaches her own hand out tentatively and puts it on the older woman's shoulder, trying to think of something comforting to say. They stand like that for a while, in the middle of the frozen foods aisle. Other customers wander up and down the aisle, but nobody does more than cast them a furtive glance before passing on. It occurs to the doctor that this situation ten months ago would have made her red faced with embarrassment. Now, however, Angela sniffs, composing herself, and Maura's hand tightens involuntarily, offering reassurance. She wonders briefly when she became this person, but then decides that it doesn't matter, as long as she is now.

"Your little girl is gone," she says, trying to soften her tone to make up for the harshness of the words. "She's gone…she died in that car crash." Angela shivers, "But what you have now…who Jane is now, is…is wonderful too."

Angela's eyes open at this, unseeing and bloodshot. "I've missed twenty years of her life," she says, and Maura fights the instinctual urge to correct her.

"But she has a life," she says instead. "She has a life, and…even better, she wants you in it. She wants to be your daughter again. Her need for your acceptance is greater than any need she's ever had," Maura continues, remembering the way Jane had looked calling herself a monster, the way Maura herself had ached at the feeling. "She still needs you."

"She doesn't need me. She's not human," Angela murmurs, and Maura has to take a moment to fight back the initial anger she feels at this statement, and even after taking a deep breath, she is unsuccessful in keeping a tiny note of derision out of her tone.

"She is more human than many I have met," she says forcefully. "She is kind and thoughtful and funny. Hardworking and loyal. Those are all traits – human traits – that she received from you and your husband.

Angela's shoulders tense for a moment. "Frank doesn't want to see her. He says his daughter is dead, no matter what we say."

Maura pauses, considering. "And what do you think?" she asks after a moment, hoping she sounds noncommittal enough to elicit a truthful response.

Angela puts the hand that was on her face against the glass of the door that separates the aisle from the frozen vegetables. Her eyes are brown, the same size and shape as her daughter.

"A mother knows," she says after a moment, and Maura lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, feeling relief flood her.

"She wants to see you," Maura says, "She's proud…but-"

And Angela laughs, nodding, "Of course she's proud," She reaches into her purse to pull out what Maura realizes is a date book. "Of course she's proud," Angela repeats.

"She's a Rizzoli."

* * *

…

She feels Jane arrive before they hear the door slam.

"She's here," she says to her guests, and all three of them stand, the two of them looking nervous.

"She'll be thrilled," Maura says, hearing the front door slide open.

[Maura!?] her Invictu, excited and happy, a little damp from the rain outside. Maura can't help closing her eyes at the rush of pleasure that Jane sends as she steps into the hall. She'd been afraid that the excitement of a job, the discovery of a world without her, would mean that Jane came home grudgingly, reluctantly. She thought it would mean that Jane would long to go back.

But the feeling that envelops her as the Invictu steps through the door is one of contentment, is of home.

And Jane rounds the corner, eyes alive with happiness, blazer over her arm, hair pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her neck, and she sees Maura, and she sees who else is there and her eyes go wide and the blazer slips to the floor.

The four of them stand there, not knowing where to look. Maura feels Jane's fear like a spinal tap.

[It's okay] Maura pushes what she can of her own comfort. [It's okay.]

"Hello, Jane," Angela says quietly.

Jane doesn't answer, her eyes flick nervously between her mother and her brother. Frankie fingers the brim of his hat, "Hey, Janie," he says after a moment.

Jane looks frozen.

"I-I hope it's alright that Maura invited us, like this," Angela says into the silence, and Maura notices that she keeps her arms still by her sides, as though if she moves them they will reach out to her daughter of their own volition "But Maura says you've just had your first day working, so if you are tired, Frankie and I will understand. Won't we Frankie?"

Frankie looks like nothing has ever been further from the truth as he nods. "Yeah," he says. "Sure."

Maura catches her breath, because for a moment it looks like Jane is going to nod, and send them both on their way. But then her eyes catch sight of Frankie's hat, a dark blue baseball cap, with the a white Y inlayed over a N.

"Little brother," she says hoarsely, "you guys can stay for dinner on one condition."

And Frankie can only gawk at her, too surprised by her name.

"What is it?" Angela asks, voice shaking.

Jane points at Frankie's hat, and it leaps out of his hand and glides across the room to Jane's outstretched palm. Angela makes a noise like she's about to pass out. Frankie goes pale.

Jane looks unsure for the space of a moment, before cracking a hopeful grin.

"This awful, traitor hat…stays on the porch." She looks between her two family members, her eyes hopeful and defiant at the same time.

Finally Frankie begins to laugh. He laughs and laughs, and when he comes up for air, he moves to throw his arm around his sister.

His sister.

Maura feels like something is loosening inside her. She grins at Angela, ecstatic when the other woman returns the gesture.

"Don't tell me," Frankie is saying. "Please don't tell me you are a Dodgers fan."

* * *

…

…

…

…

…

…

* * *

_This time, when he wakes up it is different and he realizes the difference immediately. He is conscious, truly conscious, and blinks and blinks, looking up at the buzzing hospital light above him, trying to make his sluggish senses return to themselves quickly. He wonders what day it is, how long he has been lying in this hospital bed. He wonders if the new skeleton that braggart surgeon built him will hold him when he sits…stands…walks._

_He wonders about Jane._

_His fingers twitch suddenly and he rolls his eyes down to take them in._

_He presses the call button. He waits, all of him alive with anticipation and glee. The nurse will come, will rush, to see what he wants. He hopes it is the one who smells like lilacs and sea breeze. He imagines her brown haired and skinny in her scrubs, the way Jane would be. She will come and she will bend over him, to check that he is okay, and that is when he will open his eyes._

_Open them, and say the one word that will bring him the doctor._

_Patrick Doyle's little girl, alive and connected to Jane. His Jane._

_If it is not the woman he wants, then he will not respond. He has been patient this long, he can stand a few more hours, one more day. He presses the call button and he lies back, closing his eyes and feigning sleep._

_But he has never felt more awake._


	21. Memory -

_[What happens, when we die?] He's working the buttons on his shirt when she asks. It's her 20__th__ birthday and she's sitting on His bed, waiting._

_He looks at her. [Why do you want to know that? You're not going to die.]_

_[Beckett says everybody dies. Beckett says I am lucky that I am not dead.] She pushes this tentatively. Lately, when He is not with her, all He seems to do is fight with Beckett. She's heard them screaming from her room at the far end of the building. And sometimes, when He comes to her after these fights, He is not gentle, and she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out._

_[Beckett is a fool. He does not know many things.] The response is abrupt and truncated, sent bitterly, through an angry haze. She doesn't push Him, even though she can feel this is a lie._

_[You fight more, now] she pushes some hair behind her ear, changing tack._

_His fingers pause on the buttons of His shirt and He doesn't say anything for a while. She can feel Him shifting through regret, or sorrow, or…she shakes her head. It's all too muddled. She wishes she could hide things from Him the way He keeps things from her._

_[Do you know how old you are today?]_

_She nods, not taking her eyes off of Him._

_[Tell me]_

_She bites her lip, [twenty]_

_He looks at her for a moment, like He can't believe it. She feels His flicker of disbelief, feels it get snuffed by something harder and darker. Arousal._

_[Take off your shirt] Not a suggestion, but she doesn't stop to wonder if she should question Him. She loves Him the way she loves the balloon He brought home this year, dark green and hovering like magic. She's never seen anything like it in her life. She doesn't know but to cling to it._

_She does as she's told, as she has on her birthday for the last two years._

_He turns to her, bare chested. [Lie down.]_

_She does._

_It does not occur to her to say no. She loves Him, and He is there._

_[Do you know why we do this?]_

_Yes, she knows the answer to this question too. She nods and He kneels above her, looking her over. His hand reaches out to trace over her collarbone, down, to press against her heart, beating a little fast under her skin._

_[Tell me]_

_She smiles up at him and he puts both his hands on her waist, positioning. [You're my father. You're teaching me.]_

_She could have sworn she said the right thing. The last time He'd asked that question she'd been a child, He'd asked her why she thought he was doing the things he did. He'd__told__ her that he was like her father._

_She shies away from him, now, holding her face where it's still stinging from His hand , but He takes her around the throat and lifts her up so she's sitting._

_[Don't you dare call me that again.] He pushes anger so hard that it feels like her chest is caving in. Her lungs don't have enough space to expand. She is going to pass out._

_And then he releases her, letting her fall back against the mattress and she pulls at the air desperately, trying to stop the world from spinning._

_He leans down over her, so that His lips are against the corner of her eye, catching the one stray tear that manages to escape._

_[I love you so much.] He says, hands on the waist band of her leggings. [I'm your teacher, yes, but I'm more than that. I'm more than your father] pushed roughly, with only the faintest twinge of guilt. She pushes up against His hands, desperate to make Him happy. She snakes an arm around His neck. She kisses Him._

_Later, when He's fully inside of her and the stubble of his cheek presses against her smooth one, He tells her again that He loves her. This is the truth, she can feel it in the pit of her stomach. He loves her, He loves her, He loves her, and she holds onto that feeling tightly, shutting her eyes hard enough to see stars._

_She goes to repeat the words back to Him, but He thrusts hard, and the words are swallowed up in her gasp. _

_[Happy Birthday, Jane] He's working the buttons back up on his shirt, and she's tangled in the sheets._

_It's my birthday, she tells herself. Happy birthday, Jane._

_[Jane.] She looks around at him, but he's not speaking. And the feeling of her name is not His feeling but something else entirely. It confuses her._

_[__Jane!__] more insistent and filling her up like a song. She sits up. He looks at her curiously._

_"JANE." no one says, "Jane, wake up."_

_No one and yet, she knows that voice. She knows that pull…that feeling, stronger than anything here in this room._

_He's finished with his shirt and he turns to her, reaching out for her. She flinches back and he looks angry._

_[You're mine] he says, but already it feels weaker, and his anger is melting to something like fear._

_"Jane! Jane!"_

"Jane!" The brunette sits upright in bed, nearly throwing the doctor off of her. In the half morning, her girlfriend looks pale and scared.

"Jane!" she says, breathless, "I couldn't wake you. You were grunting. Like pain. I touched you and it burnt…it burnt like fire…Jane?"

But she's already falling back. Already being dragged down again. And she flails out with her hands grabbing at Maura, one hand connecting around the back of her neck, the other sliding into the dark blonde hair.

She falls back down into unconsciousness.

And she drags Maura with her.

_He slams her up against the wall, her long legs wrapped tightly around His waist. There is no cake. There is no balloon. He does not bother to say happy birthday. He barely manages an I love you, before His fingers are pulling at her tank top. _

_She is twenty five years old. Too old for cake and balloons. _

_[Stop] she pushes her fingers through His hair, trying to move His face away from her neck. He grunts and shakes His head, pushing her back harder. [You like this] He murmurs. _

_She frowns slightly, wondering if that's true. It doesn't matter, she has something she wants to say. _

_[Stop. Please. just for a moment.] _

_He growls deep in the back of his throat, but pulls away, releasing her, and she drops her feet to the concrete. _

_[What? What is it?] she looks down at her bare feet, gathering her courage. They moved again three weeks ago, from down by the marina to this compound near Roxbury (another nosy police man, another dodge and near miss. She is old enough now, to understand), and for once, the car ride had been during the day. She'd seen the world sliding by through tinted windows, and part of her had ached to know it. _

_[Well?] He's impatient. _

_She looks up at him [I want to go ou-] but the thought dies at once, as she glances past him. All of her current thoughts are wiped from her mind, and she can't do anything but stare. _

_[You want to go ow?] he pushes his impatience like anger, looking at her staring over his shoulder. [what in the hell are you talking about?]_

_She doesn't answer. She can't. Her feet feel frozen to the stone. She stares. _

_Behind him, dressed in loose fitting sweats and a tank top, is a woman. She is petite and blonde with wide green eyes. And she is standing behind him, hands limp at her sides, with an expression that is somewhere between hatred and despair. _

_"Jane," she says quietly. _

_He whirls, sucking in a breath like it's the last one He'll ever get, and Jane watches as His eyes widen and then narrow, his whole face contorting in rage. _

_"You!" He hisses, and he points at her. _

_The woman looks down at his finger pointed at her chest, and then back up into Jane's face. And the Invictu feels a pull, like an invisible line around her belly button. _

_Get to the one you love. _

_She would know that pull anywhere. She takes a step forward, around Him, and the woman almost smiles. _

_"Hi, sweet girl," she says, holding her hands out a little, and Jane doesn't know why she's there, or where she's come from but she knows it is right. It feels right, and she reaches out her hands too, feeling relieved. _

_But then He is storming past her, running at the woman, and his hands are out like he wants to hurt her. Like he wants to __kill__ her and, the woman's eyes are wide and scared and she turns away from him but she doesn't run, and Jane acts without thinking. _

_She lifts Him off his feet. She throws Him back and away, off to the side. He lands with a hard thunk and there is silence. Jane looks back at the woman. The woman looks at her. _

_[Say my name again] she pushes the request gently, tentatively. _

_The woman smiles like sunlight. "Jane." _

_Jane takes a step towards her, and then another, but she isn't half way there, before He is pulling himself up and charging at her. And this time, because he's coming at her. She doesn't defend herself. _

_He smacks her across the face so hard that she is knocked off her feet. She drops to her knees and covers her head, and He brings his boot up and back down against her shoulder blade. _

_She screams and so does He. _

_"You're MINE!" He yells at her, and she thinks there must be no end to this wrath but death. He is going to kill her. "You're MINE YOU'RE MINE, YOU'RE MINE." _

_And underneath his yelling. In her head, she can hear the woman. Her. calling her. pleading. _

_[No. No! Jane. Wake up! Wake Up!]_

.

_"_WAKE UP!"

.

They lay there, wrapped around each other, panting and shaking. Maura is trying to calm her heart rate, but Jane's breathing is quick and shallow in her ears and her body, and she cannot manage it. She tightens her hold around the slender waist, feeling the Invictu press her head more firmly into the crook of her neck. Maura can feel her pain, muted. Held back.

"It-it was…just a dream, right? Just a dream?" the doctor tries to say this comfortingly, but it comes out a stuttering question. "It's okay, Jane. I'm okay. You can share your pain...it was just a dream...right?"

Jane doesn't move for a moment, and Maura can feel her indecision plainly: keep her safe or keep her informed.

"Don't lie to me, Jane," she says gently. "You don't have to hold back. Tell me. Do you know what that was?"

A head shake.

"It was more than a dream though, yes? The way I fell in with you…it was different than the other times. It was…more…real. Is it still going on?"

A nod against her shoulder, accompanied by a whimper, and Maura gasps, pushing Jane away as another part of the dream comes back to her.

"Jane!" she breathes, pushing the dark hair away from her face so she can look closer. "No, don't pull away, come here. You're bleeding."

The fact that an actual cut exists from a blow that was received in a dream does not do anything to calm Maura's already racing thoughts.

_If that wasn't a dream…if that was real…if it was really happening. _She shakes her head, running her thumb gently along Jane's cheekbone. _It can't have happened. We're here…in our house…we're safe._

But Jane shakes her head, her arms coming out to pull the doctor closer again. She is breathing hard and fast, her whole body shaking with something like effort.

[We are not safe]She pushes, and Maura realizes that the undercurrent of emotion that brings this to her is fear. And as she understands that, a new realization crashes over her as well.

[You're afraid] she closes her eyes, against the feel of the invictu's hands on her back, they shake, even as she presses them hard against the doctor's spine.

[I am] an admission that Jane trusts no other to hear.

[You've never been frightened like this before. Not even at the top of the tower with Hoyt.] And Jane pulls back and looks her in the eyes, her expression torn between fear and agony.

[Nothing has felt like this before.]

Maura takes Jane's hands in her own. [Show me] pushed with all the determination she can muster. Jane opens her mouth to protest audibly, but Maura forestalls her, shaking her head.

"Show me, Jane. Don't be afraid," she puts one of Jane's hands on the back of her neck. "Show me."

And Jane leans forward and presses her forehead to Maura's.

.

The blast of pain is so strong and so immediate, that Maura's first and overwhelming desire is to scream. But the air is knocked out of her repeatedly, and she knows that all she's able to do is whimper pitifully as the feeling rocks her.

She is being ripped apart. Something is physically ripping her in two, she can feel her shoulders slipping out of joint and her knees distending and dislocating. She opens her mouth but her tongue won't cooperate. It is like being drawn and quartered. She is being pulled and pulled and pulled, but something is also demanding she stay.

She _has to go. _

She _must not move. _

She writhes once, and vaguely, she can feel the pillow under her head. She is going to pass out and then…

The feeling is gone. It simply vanishes, like a flame that's been snuffed out.

She opens her eyes and looks at Jane. The brunette looks back at her wide eyed. She is panting, but the pain seems to have disappeared in her as well.

"Is it…is it over?"

Jane rolls her shoulders, like a test. "For now."

Maura sits up. Her lungs feel like she's been running up a hill with lead boots. "What was that?"

Jane shakes her head. "I don't know." But Maura can feel that she does.

"That dream-"

"It wasn't a dream, Maura," the way Jane says her name makes the doctor look around. Jane holds her gaze for a moment and then drops it to the bedspread. Her hand goes up to finger the cut under her eye.

"It happened," she says quietly.

Maura sucks in a breath, "I could have done that while we were sleeping…Just because that's where Pazerretti hit you doesn't mean-"

"No," Jane cuts across her, standing up and moving to the window. "It happened…before I knew you. It happened when…" She rubs her head, thinking. "But you weren't there. He was simply mad I wanted to go out."

Maura stands too, though she doesn't approach the Invictu. "I was there this time," she says softly. "You protected me. I remember," And indeed, when Maura thinks of the dream it feels more like a memory now than anything else. Like an event, rather than her brain's usual nighttime fabrication.

For a moment they are silent, Pazerretti's cries seeming to echo around the room.

"Jane," Maura goes to touch her, to say more, but her phone is buzzing on the bedside table. Sighing, she turns around and picks it up, signaling to Jane that the conversation is not over.

"Dr. Isles," she says impatiently.

"D-doctor," one of her interns stutters. "You need to come to the hospital."

Maura swallows her initial irritation at tone of the young woman's voice. She doesn't know how she knows. She just does. "He's awake?" She asks the voice.

There is a pause. By the window, Jane turns as if in slow motion. It's written all over her face too.

"Yes, ma'am…he's been very agitated. Muttering in his sleep. Making wild gestures."

"Like he's pulling something," Maura mutters. Jane's eyes widen.

"Doctor?"

"What is he doing now?"

"He's awake…He…asked for you by name, Dr. Isles. And now he's just…he's just waiting."

Maura feels her knees go weak, and she sinks down onto the mattress in front of her. "Do not allow anyone to go into the room. Do not communicate with him in anyway…what is your name?"

"Aneesa Williams, Doctor." the name is not familiar to her.

"Dr. Williams, you are to lock the door to his room. Do you understand? I will be there…three hours. I will be there. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, doctor."

"Three hours," She says again, and hangs up the phone. She stares up at Jane.

"Him," she says simply.

"Yes," Maura replies.

More silence. and then, Maura turns and strides over to her closet. "I've got to go, Jane."

"to Him?"

"He asked for me," she turns to look at the brunette, "promise you'll stay here." she says, and even though her voice does not rise at the end. She is really asking, begging, if she's honest. "Promise you'll stay here, Jane."

"Three hours?" Jane asks her own layered question of her own.

Maura nods, "I've got to see Korsak…I've got to ask him why…" _why I hate this man so much…why he wants me and not you, Jane._ Maura thinks this last part, blocking this last thought from her.

"Maura," it's the way Jane says her name that makes her turn, makes her drop her coat and move over to the Invictu and wrap her arms around her middle.

"Come back," she feels Jane whisper into her hair. "Come back." And Maura knows she's felt her hatred and her determination, even if she hasn't heard the words.

"Come back," Jane whispers again. "I choose you."

And Maura pulls back and presses her lips to Jane's, wanting to convey that those three words are the only ones she ever needs to hear, ever again, and Jane wraps her hand in Maura's hair and holds on, and it is deeper and more alive than anything that the doctor witnessed between the Invictu and Him. She knows it. And she knows Pazerretti knows it too.

The kiss burns hot…like fire.

* * *

**aw. snap. **

**pm me or hit me up on the tumblr if you think think you've got the end game, but don't blow up my spot in the comments. I love you all. thank you for staying along for the ride. truly. **


	22. Miracle -

Korsak is waiting for her at the door with a cup of coffee, and she notices he checks both left and right before shutting the door behind her.

"Habit," he says quickly, when he sees her looking. "Sit down doctor."

She does, taking one of the armchairs by the window while he sits down on the couch, looking her over. She lets him, waiting for him to initiate conversation.

His apartment is small, and the furniture is probably almost as old as she is, but the space is neat, and his things are well cared for.

"I have to go see him," Maura says quietly. "First of all I'm his doctor, and second…" she pauses, trying to think of the right way to explain her desire to see this man.

"He's your enemy," Korsak says into the silence, and Maura looks around at him, wide eyed.

"What?"

"You're enemies," Korsak says simply, looking back at her. "The term mortal enemies hear has never been more appropriate. I just didn't want to say it because it sounds so…"

"Over dramatic," Maura fills in, "And it is…it must be."

Korsak shakes his head. "It's not." He leans a little closer to her. "This man is not just your emotional adversary, doctor. He's not just some othe guy competing for Jane's affection. He is biologically bound to her, the same way you are." Korsak waits to see if Maura is going interject, when she doesn't he continues. "He is _bound _to her. like you are. He has been away from her longer than you have, and he has never been a totally upstanding moral citizen. When I say mortal enemies…I mean it."

"I don't even _know_ the man," Maura argues, even though something coils tight in her chest like a snake hissing _yesss. _  
"It doesn't matter," Korsak says simply. "Your blood is Jane's blood and so is his, but neither of you have any sort of connection to each other."

"What does that mean?" Maura is not used to not knowing things. It makes her feel wary and off balance. Like her sinuses are full. She stands and begins to pace. Korsak watches her go back and forth.

"It means that you hate each other," He says again, and then, when she looks exasperated. "You push at each other. Like magnets with the same polarization. It's a biological love triangle, doctor. Jane can coexist with both of you, but you can't coexist with each other."

Maura stops pacing and sits down on the couch. Her fingers are trembling and she feels irritation leaking down her spine like water torture. It's not hers, she realizes with a jolt, but Pazerretti's. He's getting impatient.

She stands up, looking at her watch. "I-I have to go. He's getting restless."

Korsak follows her to the door, looking worried. "Doctor…Maura," he grabs her arm to hold her back. She looks at him, realizing that he's more than worried. He's scared for her.

"He doesn't just want to talk. You know that, right?" Korsak looks her directly in the eyes. "He had Jane's undivided attention for twenty years. He's not just going to cede that to you with a smile and a handshake."

Maura bites her lip. She's considered that Pazerretti's motives in calling her to the hospital were not harmless. But she thinks of Jane's face when he'd pinned her to the wall with his body, thinks about the way jealousy and anger had exploded inside her like an atom bomb.

She looks up at him, determined. "I love her," she says fiercely, and then louder, when Korsak opens his mouth, "No…I love her, Vince. And he can't have her."

…

...

* * *

Pazerretti doesn't turn his head from the window when she unlocks the door and pushes into his room. But she knows he knows it's her. The closer she'd gotten to the hospital, the more it had pushed against her, as sick, uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was like swallowing glass, like trying to walk during an earthquake, and by the time she pulled into the parking lot, she was nauseated with hatred.

She stands in the doorway to his room now, almost paralyzed by the force of her emotions, and she stares at him. He is hunched in a chair by the window, hands resting loosely on the arms, feet planted firmly on the ground. If she could get past his appearance, he might look like any normal man, working on surviving a horrific accident.

But he is not a normal man. He has been reconstructed and rebuilt…and it shows.

The side of his face that she can see is shiny and a crinkled with burn. The hair on his head grows in sparse patches, pushing up feebly like weeds in the cracks of a sidewalk. And although he stares out the window, ostensibly taking in the scene through the glass, the eye that is closes to Maura, the one visible to her, is a faded, milky white.

She stands there and stands there, wondering if he's seen her, wondering if it's too late to turn around and obey the force that is pushing her strongly away from this room. She is about to turn and walk away from him, rethink her options, when he speaks.

His voice is low, gravelly, and it makes her think of the way tires spin out on a dirt road.

"Dr. Isles," he says, and when he turns his head, she can see that his other eye is clear and focused. The side of his face that can manage it twitches up into a smile.

She scowls, hating her name from his lips. "Pazerretti."

Half of his face looks mildly surprised, but he makes no comment.

"You're supposed to be dead."

He blinks, sizing her up. "I think you know why I am not."

"Yes." There is nothing more to say to that.

Pazerretti waves his good hand at the door behind her. "And your doctors have, very graciously, built me a new body, so that I might get stronger. I am a _miracle_, isn't that what they are calling me? I have returned from the dead… and I am going to take back what is mine."

Maura feels hot with fury. They've arrived at the heart of the conversation much faster than she wanted, but his words make her clench her fists hard enough that her fingernails leave indents on her palms, and when she speaks, her voice shakes.

"She is not yours." Jane, at home, waiting patiently for her. Maura doesn't dare reach for her now. Not in front of this man.

Pazerretti makes an irritable motion with his shoulders, and his half mouth lifts again, his good eye amused.

"Certainly she is mine," he says firmly.

Maura wants to stomp her foot. On his face. She wants to dig her four inch heel into his forehead. For a moment she can picture it, his face going slack and empty.

But to what end?

He would come back.

"Jane is not your property," she spits, stepping closer into the room. "She is not property at all. She is a person."

"Then let her choose."

And Maura opens her mouth to say 'fine, sure, let her choose,' because there is a part of her that knows without a doubt that Jane would pick her, that their love is truer, deeper, than anything she had with Pazerretti. She opens her mouth to say this…and finds she cannot speak.

She looks at him, and he nods. "I knew you could not," he whispers. "I could not either."

"She would choose me," Maura says defiantly, and the next words out of her mouth are supposed to be, "so let her choose," but she cannot make herself. The words don't come.

Pazerretti looks knowing. "You can't, and neither can I. We're not capable of letting her choose."

"Why?" Maura asks before she can stop herself.

He glances out of the window again. "Because neither of us could be okay with losing her."

The doctor's breath catches in her throat. What is he saying? She replays his words over in her head. No, he hasn't threatened her, though his tone is dark and even, evil perhaps, But still…

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that Jane choosing me over you wouldn't destroy you. Tell me that your life before her was something you would be content to return to, should that happen."

Maura doesn't even try. She already knows she can't.

Her grunts out a laugh. "You are weak, Dr. Isles."

This riles her, "You underestimate me," she says coldly, and the smile slips from his face quickly, replaced by a glare.

"I do not," he says, just as icily. "You are weak, because you will not use her in order to keep her." He waves his hand through the air as she goes to speak, and she sees that two of his fingers are encased in metal braces, shiny under the hospital lights. "I already know," he says bitterly, "you came here without her today. That was foolish."

For the first time, a prikle of fear tempers her anger and her hatred. But she keeps it under control, and does not let it show on her face.

"You would kill me?" She asks incredulously, "right here? You must know that with Jane alive, I'll just come back. If what you say is true, I won't die. Jane won't let me."

Another grunt of a laugh, and he turns to face her. Their eyes meet for the first time and the doctor has to fight the urge to run, to fly at him from across the room, to turn and leave, get jane and go…never return.

_No more running._

Pazerretti's hands tighten on the arms of the chair. "That's very brave of you," he says, and she realizes she's spoken out loud. "But I would take it into consideration…As you are mobile, and I am not…yet. But the moment I am…" a half smile, more sinister than before. "You can bet I will come for her."

"You cannot kill me, you cannot kill her," Maura feels some of her confidence returning. "What are you going to do?"

Pazerretti answers without hesitation. "I am going to bleed her."

Maura gapes.

"I am going to bleed and feed her until you are completely wiped from her DNA. Until it is just me in her veins and she belongs to me completely. Until you are just a distant memory." He holds Maura's gaze, even though she knows it hurts him as much as it hurts her. "I am going to bleed you right out of her, doctor, even if I have to slit her throat and watch her eyes go dead before I put myself back into her." He shrugs at her expression. "Sometimes you have to hurt the ones you love."

Maura's head is pounding. She has to get away from him. "I-I won't let you," she says, aware that her voice sounds small and weak.

"_We _won't let you. She has a family…a family that loves her, and friends…_policemen _friends. And we won't let you."

"You won't have a choice," he says, and for a moment, he looks almost…sorry. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for her now."

In some clear, rational part of her brain, Maura understands that he wasn't always like this. That his love for Jane had not always been this ugly or possessive, that whatever it is now has grown from the sting of abandonment, and the neurological connection that was severed.

He is an addict. This is his withdrawal.

"I…" _can't live without Jane, _is what she is going to say. But she realizes it will not do any good.

"You know," he says quietly, lifting his hand to the burned side of his face. "I was not always a monster."

"You stole a little girl away from her family," indignation roars inside Maura again. "You ripped her away from the world and you stole her autonomy.

Pazerretti pauses for a moment, and then. "I tried to give her back."

Maura stares. "what?"

"Twice. Once when she was just a child. Before I fell in love with her. I tried to approach her father. To tell him what happened. What Beckett had done. He wouldn't give me thirty seconds of his time."

The doctor hears his words as though they are flying at her through a wind tunnel. She cannot hold onto any of them for very long.

"And then later…I deluded myself into believing we could have a normal life, away from the compound. Away from Beckett. And I approached him again…and this time he _listened._" Pazerretti's face twists unpleasantly. "And when I was done explaining it all, he said he did not want her. That if I had a heart I would kill her, and leave her dead, like her mother believed her to be. And he sent me away."

Maura closes her eyes, and as she does so she can see Frank Rizzoli's angry face as he'd shut the door on her all those months ago.

_We don't have a daughter. _

"You imprisoned her…for decades," she whispers and he looks away with an expression that would be shame…if it wasn't so mangled.

"I kept her safe. I kept her strong. I _gave _her the years that she has. Without me, she would be dead."

Maura shakes her head, "I have saved hundreds of people who come in these doors," she says angrily, "that doesn't mean she _owes_ you her life."

"Yes," he's grinding his teeth, speaking as though his jaw is wired shut, and she knows he's working hard to keep himself in check. He doesn't want a fight. Not yet.

Maura takes a step back towards the door, wishing she hadn't come at all. The new information this trip has provided is information she wishes she didn't know.

"Yes," Pazerretti says, and his fingers grip the edges of his chair hard enough that the metal encasing a finger fractures down the middle.

"It does."

…

* * *

…

Home.

Home with her Invictu…Jane…hers. She steps in the door and into Jane's arms, and as she lets herself lean into the tight embrace she lets out a breath she'd been holding the entire car ride home.

[You came back] Jane. in her head.

Maura presses harder against the skinny frame. "Of course I did. Did you worry I wouldn't?"

Jane shakes her head, her relief flowing through Maura like a sedative. [I thought he might hurt you] fear. Impatience.

Maura has to work hard to pull away, all she wants to do is keep holding on. "You didn't come looking for me," she says, and her tone is harder than she'd planned. "You were worried about me but you didn't come after me."

Jane stiffens ever so slightly. [You told me to stay]

Anger from nowhere and everywhere bubbles up inside Maura. "That doesn't seem to have stopped you before. Anytime I was even in perceived danger, you were throwing your body away to protect me. Is it different now?"

Jane is silent for a moment, considering her. It's clear she wasn't expecting a fight the moment the doctor walked in the door. Maura wasn't either. But she holds her ground, the dual flames of panic and jealousy fueling her aggression.

"It's like a safety net for you, isn't it?" she asks, her voice rising.

Jane clenches her jaw, knowing even though she doesn't quite fully understand. [what?]

"Something happens to me…no matter, you have Pazerretti there to take care of you! No big deal!" She's being unfair. She can hear herself, but she can't stop.

Jane's frown deepens. [I would never let anyone hurt you.]

Maura shakes her head. That's not what she wants to hear. "But if I didn't exist, you wouldn't care!" she says, and she can hear how irrational she sounds.

Jane looks flabbergasted. [I…don't understand what's happening.] she flickers in and out between confusion, irritation and worry. [I love _you_] she pushes the last [I want _you_]

"But you _love him._" Maura wipes angrily at her eyes.

[I can't-]

"Help it! Maura says, turning away. "I know…I know…but you can't help loving me either. If I weren't here you would just go on with him forever. Happy as anything."

Jane makes an impatient gesture. [But you are here. I have chosen you.]

The fear in Maura will not be put to bed. She points at Jane.

"So you _would_ love him. If I didn't exist you would love him and be with him and everything would be perfect."

Jane tilts her head, listening to Maura's frustration and anxiety rather than the words. [you want me to say no] confusion. The wish to make it right. [But the scenario in your head does not make sense.]

"Talk to me, Jane!" Maura bursts out. "Speak to me _out loud. _I can't be the only one in the conversation who is yelling. Tell me what would happen if I hadn't come into the picture? If Pazerretti had survived the fire straight off and come to claim you. Would you have gone back to him willingly? Been his little pet forever?"

Jane frowns, but Maura knows her hurt is stemming from the doctor's tone, and not the words.

"I…suppose I would…yes," Jane says after a moment, and her frown deepens as Maura turns away again, throwing herself down onto the couch. "I don't understand why that's something you're insulted by. Why that makes you…" she pauses, pulling. "hurt so much."

"You _LOVE _him!" Maura says, rolling so her tears can soak into the throw pillow under her head.

"I'm connected to him. I don't feel the same way about-"

"I can _feel_ you loving him, connecting with him…whatever. You're not _supposed to." _Maura tugs at her hair, trying to stop the words that fall out of her mouth. But she is beyond control. "You're not supposed to. That's not how human relationships work, Jane. You love the person you're with more than anyone in the world. When you break up with someone, when you choose someone new, you don't carry around strong feelings for the old person. It's not how _real humans_ work," the words come tumbling out of the doctor without her approval, and in the silence that follows, they echo back to her.

And she cries harder. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Maura," Jane sounds desperate. "How do I show you? What can I do?"

Maura tries to get control of her breathing, but it is hard. "Stop loving him," she says quietly, and she feels Jane move to stretch out next to her on the couch. She rolls over to look at her Invictu, wide dark eyes fixed on her own.

"I don't love him."

"But you can you feel him now, can't you?"

Jane hesitates, but answers with the truth. "Yes."

"Is he pulling you?"

Jane shakes her head, looking apologetic. "Does it matter? I'm here," she says firmly. "with you."

"Oh, honey," Maura puts her arms out, "Come here," she says, whispering, and Jane drops herself down against the doctor without question. "I'm sorry…seeing him today was…" But there aren't any words to describe the type of fear the doctor feels over losing her invictu.

Jane nuzzles her shoulder softly.

[I'm here.] she pushes the two of them, wrapped around each other. She pushes trust and affection and a little bit of lust.

[I'm here]

Maura presses her lips against Jane's temple, and then the top of her cheekbone, and then the base of her ear, letting the last kiss linger before lifting her head to whisper. "I love you. I love youIloveyou."

Jane growls, hips moving reflexively, and Maura feels a surge of arousal, and of control. She slides her hands into Jane's hair and tugs gently, and the Invictu wiggles closer, sliding her hands around the doctor's waist, leaving gentle kisses against her collarbone.

"mmm," she hums, feeling Jane's leg slip between her own. With so much of them touching, she'd known it was coming before Jane moved, but the new contact makes her see sparks, pink and gold on the backs of her eyelids.

[Tell me I could say no.] faint, without the desire to…but still a question. Jane has felt Maura's desire. She is testing it.

Maura pulls back, trying to read Jane's face for any trace of hesitation.

"You can say no to me," Maura says, and even with the woman in her arms, just saying the words feels like a piece of her is being ripped away. But she makes herself say them again. "Okay, Jane? You can say no every single time and I won't-"

But Jane kisses her before she can finish the sentence, and when that kiss is over she starts a new one immediately, and although the doctor can feel Jane's arms tight around her waist, feel hands resting in the small of her back, she also feels fingers in her hair, pressure at the base of her neck.

"Jay-" she gasps, when the brunette pulls away to kiss down her throat. "how are you…Ohh."

Jane presses her whole body against the doctor, and even though she knows rationally that they are both fully clothed, Maura can feel Jane's skin against hers. All of it.

[This is my choice.] Jane pulls back, rolling them so that Maura is underneath her, and she is straddling her, looking down. [I am not yours] she pushes the words smoothly, like butter, and Maura would swear that someone was teasing her, pushing her, getting her ready.

"N-no," Maura stutters. "You don't belong to anybody."

Jane curls a finger and the buttons on Maura's blouse undo themselves. Jane smiles wickedly. She leans in, pressing her lips to the side of Maura's. The doctor feels hands on her hips.

[Just because I don't belong to you…] Maura feels fingers trailing up the inside of her thighs, and wonders vaguely when she lost her jeans. She wraps her arms tight around Jane's neck, pushing up to bury her face in the strong shoulders above her. Jane is there and whole and choosing her. It's a miracle.

A miracle.

[Just because I don't belong to you…doesn't mean we can't have each other.]

Maura moans. Pushing up against Jane pushing down against her.

"Stay…stay-come with me," she murmurs, as she tumbles into her first climax of the night. "Please."

Jane follows quickly behind her.

"Always."


	23. Martyr -

"He told me she was changed! He told me she would never be the same little girl we'd had before. He told me she might die anyway, no matter what anyone did."

Frank gestures wildly, looking around between the shell-shocked faces of his family. Jane sits in the armchair Maura guided her into when they first arrived, her face stony and unreadable. Maura can feel her aching like the onset of a heart attack. She wants to go to her, but Frank stands in the middle of the room, arms still outstretched.

Frankie's face is slipping slowly from disbelief to fury, and so his father focuses his attention on Angela, moving to kneel in front of her. "He told me she'd be wild and untamable. He told me she'd be destructive.

The words hit Jane, and therefore Maura, like physical blows, and although the brunette doesn't move, Maura can't help but gasp, and stumble backwards a little bit, her hand going to her chest.

Angela looks up at her, tear tracks carving a path through the concealer on her face. She registers Maura's pain and then seems to realize what it means, turning to look at Jane in the armchair next to her.

"He said that our family-" Frank begins, but Angela cuts him off with a swipe of her hand, leaning sideways to look into Jane's face.

"It's not true," she says quietly, fiercely. "It's not true, Janie, you are still my daughter." Jane looks up at her, and Angela doesn't have to read her reaction through the doctor. Hope is written all over Jane's features.

"He said she wasn't built for-" Frank begins again, but Angels whirls on him, and in her fury her face is almost as terrible as her daughter's has been.

"Did he say she was alive, Frank?" She asks bitterly, pushing herself out of her chair. "Did he come to you and tell you that she was alive?" She points her finger in his face as she struggles to stand and meet her eyes.

"Angela," He tries.

She will have none of it. "He came to you. He told you she was living. That our daughter, who we thought was dead…was _not_. And you made the decision, all on your own…to leave her in that-that," Angela pauses, clearly trying to find words that can adequately describe her fury. "You didn't tell me," she says again, and her scream is one of intensity, not volume. "You left her to rot in that cult hell, getting abused and who knows what else by that psychopath until someone with more guts than you could save her."

Maura does not point out that technically Pazerretti is both her savior and her jailer. She keeps her mouth shut, watching the scene unfold and longing to speak to Jane.

They hadn't come in order to start a family feud. Things between Jane and her family, her mother and brother at least, had been going smoothly.

It was not uncommon for Maura to come home from the hospital to find her brownstone full of cops. Frankie, Frost, Korsak and Jane, all on the couch watching a baseball game, or crammed in the kitchen eating left over potpie and talking about a case. Maura knows it's only a matter of time before Jane officially joins the Academy, but this thought no longer fills her with dread. Now, she looks forward to seeing Jane in her uniform, of feeling the runoff of pride and belonging coming from her girlfriend. It seems that as the days go by, and Jane gets closer to her family, Maura gets closer to family as well.

So they hadn't even come with the intention of telling Angela that her husband is the reason that she was separated from Jane for an extra ten years. They'd come with the sole intent of warning the Rizzolis that Pazerretti is getting out of rehab tomorrow, that he is a man with a reconstructed skeleton of steel, and his one goal is to regain his position as Jane's only connection.

They came to tell the Rizzoli's that Jane has no intention of returning to him.

"Can we go back a second," Frankie's voice cuts through Frank's pleading, and when everyone in the room turns to look at him, he colors a bit. "Don't get me wrong," he continues quickly, looking directly at his father. "You're a douchebag and I'm three seconds away from asking my sister to telekinetically snap all the bones in your body, but can we go back to the beginning of this conversation?" He looks at Maura, "The asshole who did this to my sister is still alive?"

"Yes," Maura says, and then, after a pause, "He's the jumper you brought into my ER six weeks ago," she adds, and Frankie goes pale.

"I brought…" He echoes weakly, and Jane looks up, opening her mouth for the first time in minutes.

"It's not your fault," she says quickly, and Frankie looks around at her.

"If I hadn't brought him in," Frankie begins, and Maura thinks that in that moment, he looks exactly like a little brother, asking for reassurance from his big sister.

Jane does not disappoint. "He would have come back anyway," she says gruffly. "With or without the doctor's help."

Angela has been looking back and forth between her children, but now she fixes Maura with her familiar brown eyes. "I don't understand," she says to the doctor, "with or without?"

Maura nods, "The reconstruction of Jane's genetic make-up did more than alter her own abilities. Those whose blood she took for her own sustenance, if they didn't perish, were changed as well."

Angela shakes her head, still at a loss, and Maura hesitates, trying to decide how much to reveal.

They have, so far, been successful in shielding the Rizzoli's from the bulk of Jane's history, speaking in general terms about 'suffering' and 'isolation."

From across the room, Maura feels Jane reach for her, reassuring her as effectively as if she were close enough to put an arm around her waist. [It's okay] soft and warm inside her head. [Tell them].

"if those whose blood she took…survived," Maura swallows, "Then they were changed as well."

All eyes turn to look at her, and Maura feels herself going red.

[Focus on the part of you that's in me.] Jane's voice is clear and directive in her head. [focus on the part of me that's always with you.] Jane gives her a little nudge that sways her from side to side.

[Show them.]

Maura takes a breath, and looks at the candle sitting on the coffee table near-by. Focusing all her attention on it, she makes a fist, jerking it upwards slightly.

The candle leaps into the air, and then clatters to the floor.

Three sets of stunned eyes stare at the candle and then slide back to fix on Maura.

Jane smiles at her.

"He's much more powerful than I am," Maura says into the astounded silence. "He's been harnessing Jane's abilities as his own for years. He collapsed that building in Chicago, that killed all those people. He did it with Jane's powers."

Nobody moves for a long moment. Angela looks terrified, torn between running and bursting into tears. Frankie looks shocked, his mouth hanging open a bit, but Frank looks oddly calm.

"We have to tell the police!" Angela says, turning to Frankie, her hands out as if to grab him by the collar. "You have to do something!" she says to him. "Go find that man an arrest him!"

"For what, Ma?" Frankie asks, and though his voice is hopeless, his face is a mask of fury. "There's no proof of anything. And he hasn't done anything since being "reborn," Except claim that he has no memory of who he is."

"There's nothing we can do? There's no one we can tell?" Angela looks from Frankie to Maura and then Jane, who shakes her head slowly.

"He hasn't, technically, committed any crime yet."

Frank, in the middle of the room, still on his knees, looks back and forth between Angela's distraught expression and Jane & Frankie's angry ones.

Frankie is the first to turn his attention back to his father. His eyes narrow. "This is your fault," he hisses. "We're in this mess because of you."

Frank struggles to his feet and faces his son, and Maura is struck by how similarly they stand.

"I was doing what I thought was best for this family. I was doing what I thought was best for _you_," Frank replies bitterly. "What do you think it would have been like growing up with that for a sister."

Maura feels Jane's anger scrape her like sandpaper. [Jane] she pushes it carefully, gently. [Jane, it's alright.]

But Frank continues, his voice rising with each word. "What do you think it would have been like in school, at home, at church, always having to hide that your sister was a-was a-"

WHAM!

For a moment, Maura thinks that Frank didn't get the last word out, that the force of Jane knocking him up against the wall, followed by the shock and pain of Frankie's left hook, have come before he could finish his sentence.

But in the ringing silence that follows the siblings outbursts, Maura can hear Frank's last word as though it has been imprinted in neon on her brain.

_Monster._

Frankie and Jane are breathing hard, and they stand side by side, looking down at their father. Angela stays where she is, hand over her mouth. "Get the hell out of this house," Frankie growls.

Jane lifts Frank to his feet without touching him, shoving him roughly towards the door.

Frank looks past his children, first at Maura and then at Angela.

"Ange," he says quietly.

She doesn't look at him.

"Angela, I-I'm sorry."

She doesn't move.

Frank's face goes sour and he turns away bitterly. "Fine," he says, lowly. "Fine."

They listen to the door slam in the front hallway, and the sound of a car engine gunning to life. Jane looks at Maura, and without thinking about it, the doctor crosses the room to embrace her, aware of nothing but the overwhelming need to be close to her. Angela is still staring at the door.

"Bastard," Frankie mutters.

"Watch your language," Angela says distractedly, turning back to them. "He's your father."

But Frankie shakes his head, glancing at Jane before glaring defiantly at his mother. "Not my anything," he says fiercely. "What right does he have? What god damn-OW!" He rubs his shoulder, turning to look at Jane with wide surprised eyes.

Despite the situation, Jane smiles, one arm still tight around Maura's waist. "Ma told you to watch your mouth," she growls, though her face does not display anger.

Angela's eyes fill up with tears. She moves closer to Jane, and her hands twitch a little but stay at her sides, like she's afraid to reach out to her.

Jane sees this, and with a reassuring little push from Maura, she steps forward.

"D-don't yell at your brother," Angela stutters a little weakly. "Y-you two are always fighting."

Jane rolls her eyes in one exaggerated motion. "You're always sticking up for him," she says gently. And Angela sobs once, before throwing her arms around her daughter.

Jane hugs her back, and Maura wonders if Angela feels the way she does when she's being hugged by Jane. She must feel something because after a moment, she pulls back and cups Jane's cheeks in her hands.

"Stay," she says, "Stay here for dinner…for the night. I'll make lasagna! That was your favorite when you were a baby."

"Oh," Jane hesitates, and Maura feels her nerves like a swift kick to the gut. "No…I should go…with Maura."

But Angela shakes her head, smiling. "Both of you stay…I can make up the guest room…_your _room." She looks hard into Jane's eyes. "Please, Janie. There's a mad man running wild on the streets, looking for you. I'll never get to sleep if you go."

Jane rolls her eyes again, but Maura can feel her giving in. She smiles at Frankie, who's watching his mother and his sister interact with a look of satisfaction.

"Lasagna with meat?" Jane asks hopefully.

Angela looks happier than Maura's ever seen her. She gestures Jane after her into the kitchen.

"What other kind is there?"

…

Maura wakes up before Jane. The brunette is wrapped around her, eyelids fluttering with a dream. Maura can feel it flowing through her, gentle and pastel colored like a river in the evening light. She rolls over in the unfamiliar bed, and for a while she just lies there, reveling in the feeling of her Invictu. Last night had passed in a blur of laughter and food, ending with Frankie and Jane locked in a furious battle to win a game of "Sorry," a board game Angela swore was Jane's favorite when she was a toddler. Angela and Maura watch as Jane points at nothing over Frankie's shoulder, lifting three of his pieces off the board with a flick of her other hand while he looked over his shoulder.

"Cheater!" He'd cried, throwing the dice at her.

"I didn't _touch _your pieces," she'd said back freezing the dice in midair. Angela and Frankie had seems at ease and at piece, and Jane had seemed pleasantly surprised that she could be accepted and teased and wanted and loved…powers and all.

Maura slips her hands under Jane's tank top, running them up the brunettes sides, smiling at the way comfort seems to melt into a tangible, liquid thing, tingling up her arms to her elbows, making her warm and sleepy.

Jane cracks an eye at her, looking a little grumpy. [Sleeping] she rumbles, pushing exhaustion that makes Maura's head heavy. It's true, she hasn't had a good night's sleep in a while, tossing and turning with dreams that Maura catches snippets of when her hands close over Jane's upper arms to wake her up. Although nothing has happened as terrifying as being pulled down into the Invictu's past, Maura can tell that there are moments when Jane feels Pazerretti almost as acutely as she feels Maura.

But this morning, it seems, Jane can rest. And Maura is torn between relief and suspicion. It can't be a coincidence that one the day he's to be released from the hospital, Jane cannot feel him at all.

"Okay," she says quietly, bending to press a kiss to the side of Jane's head. "alright I'll let you sleep."

She feels Jane fall asleep again as she heads across the room towards the door, and she smiles without looking back. Jane's dreams are peaceful and serene once again, and the feeling stays with the doctor, even as she descends the stairs and heads towards the dining room.

She finds Angela in the kitchen, making bread. The older woman looks up as Maura comes around the corner, her hands not stopping their work on the bread dough. She gives the doctor a tremulous smile, the kind of smile that Maura thinks she must have worn that whole first week with Jane; confused and terrified…elated and awed.

"Did my banging around for ingredients wake you?" Angela asks, looking away. "I'm sorry."

"No, no," Maura says, coming over to her, "I'm an early riser."

Angela nods, though it doesn't look like she's heard. "I couldn't sleep. I kept waking up thinking that it was a dream…that my little girl couldn't possibly be sleeping under my roof…not after so many years."

Angela pauses, staring up and off into space. "Or I would wake up and think, it can't be true. It can't be true that she might disappear again, just as I've begun to find her."

Maura comes over to the counter to stand next to Angela, trying to think of what to say. "She's not going to disappear," she says quietly. "She's not going to leave us. Not now."

To her surprise, the words come out with conviction, and Angela nods, looking a little convinced. "It's just…I always dreamed that if Jane came back..." but she trails off, like she doesn't quite know how to finish.

"When I first realized that Jane had…the abilities that she does…I was terrified," Maura says. Angela pauses in her kneading, and then continues, her hands turning the dough over and over again in her tough long fingered hands, and Maura realizes that her fingers are just like Jane's.

"I thought I was going crazy. I thought she was dangerous…I thought so many things."

Angela opens her mouth and then shuts it again, shaking her head.

"But throughout the whole thing, when I was getting to know her, there was a part of me that just…believed." On a whim, Maura reaches out and takes some of the dough from the older woman, starting to knead it too.

"I felt connected to her. I felt…at ease around her. I found myself doing things I never thought I would ever do. Life…was harder when she was around, but it was also easier. It was better."

Angela heaves a sigh, deep heavy. She stops kneading the bread and looks around at Maura.

"Are you frightened?"

It's not the question that Maura was expecting, and it catches her off guard. "Of Pazerretti?"

Angela nods. "He's told you he's going to take her back. Doesn't that frighten you?"

Maura contemplates. She had certainly felt frightened in the hospital, when she'd gone to confront him. She'd been clammy and shaky the entire way home, and then…

"It did," she says, and the both start to knead the bread again, at the same time. "I was very scared when I first spoke to him. I was frightened that Jane would feel him pulling her and return without a backward glance. I was afraid that he could take away a…life that I'd grown accustomed to. That he could take away a part of my heart, and he would crush not only the beautiful person that Jane is, but me, and Frankie… and you …" but she trails off, wondering if she should say Frank's name, and Angela's own face goes dark, her hands tightening around the bread in her hands.

"He knew," she says, and saying it aloud only seems to deepen her feelings of betrayal and anger. "He knew for…for"

"Eleven years," Maura fills in quietly. "Yes. Jane has a memory of being sixteen…of watching Pazerretti leaving the compound on business, and coming back in a very bad mood."

Maura leaves out that Frank's rejection of his daughter is what led Pazerretti to kiss Jane and, most likely, to decide that she was now his entirely. "She remembers him thinking that…that you all didn't want her, and so he would keep her to himself."

Angela makes a disgusted sound. "I don't understand how he could pretend like that. How he could carry on for years as if nothing where different. As if he wasn't keeping one of the biggest secrets of his life from me…from his son."

Maura considers for a moment, "often times…when people tell themselves over and over that what they are doing is for the greater good, they begin to believe it themselves. It's survival mechanism, to keep us from driving ourselves crazy."

Maura thinks of the months that went by without Jane. How she managed to drag herself to work with a combination of will power and pep talks given to herself in the shower. She wonders if her experience is anywhere near comparable to Angela's loss of her daughter.

"I can't forgive him," Angela says after a moment. "I can't forgive him yet. No matter what his motives."

Maura nods, understanding. Neither woman speaks again for a while, but they are as in sync as though they have been baking side by side for years, and together they lift the bread dough into the pans. Together they turn and slide each pan into the oven. And when they are done, Angela squeezes Maura's wrist.

"I'll make coffee," she says quietly.

The doctor thinks this is Jane's true ability. Creating something whole and safe and complete, even in the face of danger and heartache.

…

…

For almost a week, it seems like nothing will happen. Frank disappears, and so do the dreams. Jane's shoulders loses and the creases between her eyebrows disappear, and when Maura wraps her arms around the Invictu, she no longer feels the invisible barrier that Jane has erected to keep her from feeling Pazerretti's pull.

For 6 and ahalf days, life seems sweet and slow and almost mundane.

And then, at the end of the seventh day, just as Maura and Jane are settling down on the couch in front of a movie they have no intention of watching…the phone rings. Maura gets up to answer it, and as soon as she says hello, Jane doubles over on the couch, grabbing her stomach and grunting in pain.

And the voice on the other end doesn't have to tell her, doesn't have to say the words for her to simply know.

The picture and the pain that are forced upon Jane are pushed so hard that Maura gets them both too, watered down perhaps, but clear and real as if she herself is an Invictu.

"Frank is dead," Frosts voice tells her what she already sees. Tells her what Jane is experiencing.

"Maura, Frank is dead…and Pazerretti killed him."


	24. Save Me

"DON'T TOUCH HER! DON'T TOUCH HER!"

She is running towards the scene, vaguely aware that she is missing a heel, vaguely aware that there are sirens growing louder in the background, that Frost and Korsak are on the periphery, holding first responders at bay. She is vaguely aware of all of this.

And acutely aware of the screaming in her head.

Of the rough, raw, aching pain that is radiating out from her ribcage. An ache tied to her Invictu. An ache that she created.

_How did I get here. How did this happen. _

An EMT breaks past Frost, sprinting to the place where Jane and Pazerretti are lying on the steps of the precinct, blood pooling around them like a crimson lake.

[No. No!] Maura swipes one hand down through the air and the EMT is knocked off his feet. Knocked twenty yards off his feet with the force of her determination.

"DON'T YOU DARE..." she breathes hard with the effort of taking it now, of pulling from her Invictu when she's so close to death, when she has so little left to give. "DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH HER."

Don't save her. Don't let anyone save her.  
She hasn't realized she is running. Hasn't realized she is crying, until she is falling, kneeling down beside Jane, and slipping her hand behind the skull, the dark, beloved curls.

"Jane," she says.

The long metal beam, narrow and sharp, is still stuck in her side, _through _her side. The sight only increases Maura's awareness of the pain.

"Oh, God," she chokes out, and Jane's deep brown eyes open just a little at her voice. "Oh, God," she says again. "You're hurt."

Like it wasn't the doctor who hurt her. Like it wasn't Maura Isles who ripped that spire off the building next to the precinct and hurled it, like a missile through her Invictu's stomach.

And Pazerretti's.

Through both of them.

She looks at him now, Jane's captor and lover and hunter, pressed against the brunette's back, tethered to her by one jagged piece of metal. And blood.

Without stopping to think, Maura reaches down and wraps her free hand around the end of the spire that is still visible. There is enough of Jane still conscious that she doesn't have to use her hand...but there is something necessary about feeling the object that is going to kill her girlfriend.

Their eyes meet, and Maura does not ask if the brunette is ready, but simply wrenches the spike out of Jane's body. Out of Pazzeretti's body.

Jane's eyes fall shut, and Maura almost loses consciousness herself at the new wave of pain that ricochets through her body.

She does not bend to press her hands over the wound.

Pazerretti groans, a deep gurgling sound that tells the physician in her that he is not long for the world. She wants his pain to last forever, but she wants Jane to go quickly, peacefully. She cannot have it both ways.

There is a tug in her mind, soft, like the way a baby will pull at it's mother as it drifts off to sleep. The doctor looks away from Pazerretti in the her Invictu's eyes, just slits now.

[Maur] Barely there. Crackling like a radio station too far out of range.

Maura opens her mouth to respond, but behind her Frost grunts, making her look around.

Whatever control Pazerretti had over the other officers appears to have vanished. They stream over the sawhorses that have been erected, yelling contradictory directions at her.

"Stand up!"

"Get down!"

"Take cover!"

"Don't move!"

Frost and Korsak can no longer hold the EMTs away. They will come now. They will come and try to save her life.

For a moment, Maura can see Jane's wild face, bright in the glint from Pazerretti's knife against her throat.

She can hear the frenzied way Jane had spoken in her head, unable to focus on one emotion for very long. Only fear and desperation.

And trust.

[Maura! Do it!]

She'd hesitated and the pull had become more insistent.

[DO IT!]

Kill her.

[SAVE ME]

Kill her.

And Maura had pulled the spire down from the building and she had run them through. She had run them through without touching them. without stopping to consider the pain that would flood her own body. Without any thought about anything other than the words ringing loud inside of her.

Save me.

.

Now, as the boots of the EMTs surround her, and hands reach to pull her away, she leans down close to her Invictu's ear and she whispers,

"Go!"

She whispers, "Go, Jane!"

She whispers.

"And then come back."

…...

…...

_Angela throws her arms around Jane as soon as she pushes through the double doors of the hospital waiting room. Maura feels the older woman's weight like a hug of her own. _

"_Janie, Janie, Janie," a mantra against the Invictu's shoulders, and Jane holds her mother back, even if she looks a little unsure about the underlying emotions that are causing Angela to react this way. _

_Is she devastated that Frank is gone? Worried that her daughter might be next? Angry that Jane was not there to stop it?_

_All of the above?_

_Regardless of the reason Jane holds her mother back, willing to stand there and let Angela cry against her, until Frost's walkie crackles to life, and everyone in the hallway can hear. _

_Attention all units, All available units please respond to a code blue. I repeat a code-" _

_But then the monotone voice of the dispatcher had disappeared, and over the airwaves, clear as a bell, Pazerretti's voice. _

_Pazerretti's voice saying one name. _

"_Jane." _

…...

…...

She's gone.

She's dead.

Maura can already feel the hollow emptiness creeping into her chest. The way she'd felt the six months that Jane was gone. The way she'd felt her entire life until Jane arrived in it.

She puts her head in her hands, fingers pushing at her scalp. When she replays the afternoon's events in her head, she can't help feeling a stab of panic.

What if it didn't work? What if she was wrong, if she'd misinterpreted Jane's wishes? What if Pazzeretti dying meant that Jane died too, because he was the last one to feed her. The one who fed her the most.

What if it didn't work, what if it didn't work whatifitdidn'twork?

"Doctor Isles,"

Maura snaps her head up at her name, coming face to face with a tall, lean man who has just entered her interrogation room. She doesn't answer, and he sits down across the table from her, his chair scraping like nails on a chalkboard.

"I'm Special Agent Dean," he says, reaching down beside him to pull a file out of his briefcase.

Special Agent. Maura works hard to keep any emotion off of her face.

"Can I get you anything? Water...coffee," he tries to smile at her, but with his weak chin and watery brown eyes, it looks a little more like a grimace. "I know that today's happenings have to have hit you hard." He looks down at the folder in his hands. "That was your...partner, wasn't it?"

The way he says partner makes her bristle, and she clasps her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking. She still says nothing.

"Yes," he says, studying the papers a moment longer. "That's the statement Detective Korsak gave. He says you met through your work at the hospital. That you became close."

Maura clenches her jaw and wills herself to keep quiet. Korsak hadn't been able to whisper much to her before they'd brought her here for questioning. If she keeps quiet, this idiot agent might be able to fill in the gaps for her.

The silence stretches on and on between them, and when Maura chances a glance up, she sees that he is still looking at her, waiting. She does not oblige him, but remains stony faced and silent.

After a moment, he sighs. "Are you afraid of telling a different story than your friends Korsak and Frost?" He asks lowly. "Are you worried that you might give something away that they did not? Because, I won't lie to you, Doctor. I saw the tapes of what happened, right up until they cut out, and...I gotta tell you, if I wasn't a logical, rational man, I would say that _you_ made that spike fly off the building and run those two through."

Maura suppresses a shudder. So Jane hadn't been able to cut the cameras until then. Why? Was it because Pazerretti was taking too much of her by keeping the police under control? Or was it because she was taking too much keeping Pazerretti's knife from slicing Jane's throat open.

_What if it didn't work?_

"What is her name, Dr. Isles?"

The question pulls her from her musings, and she's she almost says "excuse me?" before she remembers that she is not speaking to this man.

But the confusion must show on her face, because Agent Dean looks satisfied for the first time, and leans a little closer to her. "What is her name?" he asks again.

Maura squares her shoulders. It is time. She musters all the courage she can find.  
"If you are going to keep me here," she says delicately, "Then I have the right to a lawyer."  
…...

…...

_He drags her out onto the front steps of the precinct by her hair. Maura looks up over the top of the cop car in time to see him appear, knife in one hand, and a fistfull of Jane's hair in the other. For a moment he looks surprised to see the police there, to see the dark barrels of thirty or so guns pointing directly at his head. _

"_NYPD," The SWAT team leader with the megaphone is shouting. "Let go of the knife and put your hands on your head." _

_And Pazerretti stops dead, looking out at the sea of navy that stands between him and freedom. And like an instinct, he pulls Jane close to him, pressing the sharp serrated edge of the blade to her throat._

"_LET THE GIRL GO!" The SWAT leader says, and Pazerretti's eyes scan the group once more, and his eyes meet Maura's. _

_She knows in a split second what he's going to do. She doesn't need Jane's panicked cry of [Maura!] in order to act. _

_Pazerretti moves to pull the knife across Jane's throat. _

_Maura does not let him. _

…...

…...

There is nothing they can do to keep her. The security camera from the bank across the street cuts out at the exact moment that the spire hits Jane and Pazerretti in the stomach. The camera on the apartment building across the street cuts out five seconds later, As Maura is sprinting towards the scene.

Only one tape, from the building catty corner to the precinct catches Maura's hand movements, and they are grainy and unsubstantial.

Her lawyer advises her not to talk, and she obeys. Jane is dead, for the moment, and without her secondary flood of emotions, the doctor finds that she is in complete control of her own body.

It shakes out to freak accident, shakes out to one Jane Doe, dead, one known killer dead, one doctor, distraught. Who is Agent Dean to question? Good bye to bad rubbish, and the girl?

Unfortunate.

So, three hours later, unable to do anything about it, Agent Dean releases her, handing her a his card as she leaves.

"If you think of anything," he says quietly. "Or...if you decide there is something you should have said.

She doesn't look back at him, but he watches her go, eyebrows creased.

.

Out on the street, there is no one to meet her. This is a good sign, even if she does feel a momentary pang of loneliness. No. This is a good sign and as she walks in the direction of the subway, trying to remember which of the lines will take her to Penn Station, she reaches instinctually for Jane.

Nothing answers.

For a moment, she is gripped by hopelessness. By the thought of picking up and starting again. By the fear that maybe it has not worked. That maybe she has just cost a mother her child...again.

For a moment she can almost feel Jane as she'd wrapped Maura up in her arms.

[Be Strong.] she'd pushed it hard, and Maura had felt a spasm of panic, remembering the last time she heard those words.

"No," she'd said allowed, watching the officers rush past, shooing pedestrians and setting up barricades. "Don't do this to me. Don't do this to me again. I cannot live without you. He might have been your first. You might think you owe him something, but I. cannot. _breathe. _without you. Don't you get it?"

And Jane had kissed her, and pulled back, and her eyes...The doctor had never seen anything like them.

"And I cannot die...with you." She'd said it slowly. "I'm in you. trust it."

And Maura had.

And now she is standing on a sidewalk halfway to the entrance to the ACE line, with teary eyes, without her invictu.

"Jane," she says to the air. Nothing answers.

She starts to walk again, wiping angrily at her eyes. She will go. She will get on a train, and then a plane, and then, maybe even a boat.

And someone will meet her when she gets their.

And she will know she is home before they even say her name.

…...

…...

_This is what it feels like to be terrible._

_This is what it feels like to be all powerful and knowing and untameable. She can feel Pazerretti struggle to push the blade to Jane's throat, and Maura nearly bares her teeth. _

"_No," she growls, and her power is terrible. _

_Maura pushes her hands out, hard, and there is wind. _

_She pulls her hands back and it is pressed back towards them, where they stand, strong enough to make them have to lean forward a little. _

_Frost and Korsak look around at her over their guns, and their eyes are wide and confused and scared. Maura doesn't look at them. She doesn't look anywhere but her Invictu. _

_There is no one in the world but Jane. _

_[Do it.]_

_Clear and firm in her head, and the image that comes makes Maura instantly teary. Her eyes are full of tears despite her terribleness. Despite the fact that when she pushes out with her hands, she can feel everything. And everything is hers. _

_Jane pushes the beach. No shoes and windblown hair. The steady sun in a clear blue sky. _

_Maura makes a fist. And the great metal spire on the top of the building next door makes an odd creaking sound. _

_Jane pushes safety. She pushes warmth. _

_She pushes one, tow headed little girl who looks just like her mother. _

_[Do it.] She pushes family. _

_[Save Me.]_

_Maura closes her eyes._

* * *

**One chapter left...**


	25. The End

At first, when she arrives, she feels empty. She feels as though she simply cannot pick up and start over one more time. The house she has chosen looks out over the white sand of the beach, and the clear stunning blue of the ocean, but the inside of the house is grey.

She fills it with furniture, and then, because it feels like she is trying to crowd out a ghost, she removes half of it. She spends four days rearranging furniture, and then, when she is satisfied, but still empty, she gets a job doing peer reviews for an insurance company over four hundred miles away. The work is dull, and not difficult, but it fills the days.

For almost two months, her life goes on like this. She is impervious to the beauty of the ocean outside her door. She does not hear the waves or smell the way the air is always scented with sea salt and lavender. She wakes up, does her work, eats because she knows her body needs her too, and goes to bed.

For seven full weeks, she manages to hold onto hope simply by telling herself that she is barely a third of the way through the time span it took for Jane to return last time.

And then they begin to come, And Maura's life is reignited.

...

…...

_Maura doesn't want her to go in. She can feel the doctor's resistance from the moment they pull up to the scene, and when she opens the door on her side and moves to get out of the car, Maura grabs her upper arm to hold her back. Jane turns to look at her, and even if Maura wasn't pushing such desperation and fear, the Invictu would be able to read it in her eyes. _

_[Don't go in there.]_

_Jane shakes her head, and Maura's grip tightens around her bicep, the desperation she is pushing melting slowly into terror. [Jane. Don't go in there. Let the police handle him.]_

_The brunette doesn't have to scoff out loud to convey what she thinks of that statement. _

_[No one can handle him.] She tries to make the feeling that goes along with this simply factual, but Maura still shudders a little as Jane finishes. [No one but me.]_

_They'd arrested Pazerretti for the murder of Frank Rizzoli. Korsak had told them on their way to the precinct. They'd come and taken him from the crime scene, and he had gone peaceably at the time, saying nothing. _

"_They put him in a holding cell," Korsak had glanced at Maura and Jane in the rearview mirror, "to wait for questioning. They had no reason to believe he was anything but a deranged murderer. Pazerretti doesn't exist anymore. Jane doesn't really exist. There was no reason to be suspicious." _

_And the brunette had grabbed at her head as something white hot and sharp like a needle had shot through her brain. _

"_Well," she'd said, leaning to the side and pressing her forehead against Maura's neck, an attempt to hold Pazerretti off. "He's not in that cell anymore." _

_Now they sit together in the back of Korsak's squad car, Jane's head pressed firmly into Maura's shoulder while the doctor tries to convince her to stay. _

"_Please," Maura's voice, when she speaks out loud, has a way of cutting directly through the brunette. "Please," Maura says again, like she knows what her tone is doing. "I love you more than he ever will. Than he ever could." _

_Yes. Yes, and that is why she has to go. That is why she has to go in there and face Him. That is why she cannot keep running. _

_She opens her mouth to tell Maura this, that she understands now what love is, and that there is no way she's going to give it up, but at that moment the four SWAT members that are heading up the front steps of the precinct are tossed back like they're attached to bungee cords. And Jane doubles over in the back of the cruiser, pressing her back into the passenger seat in an attempt to stifle her groan of pain. Maura can hear Pazerretti in her own head this time, insistent and furious. Demanding. _

_[JANE.] _

_As soon as it's passed, she unfolds herself from the back of the car, heading towards the great double doors of the precinct. She can feel Maura struggling out after her, calling her name, her voice increasingly panic stricken. _

_And she shouldn't do it, because she doesn't know if it's true. She shouldn't promise what she can't guarantee, but that is her doctor stumbling after her, starting to cry, and so she turns around and she wraps Maura up in her arms. _

_[Be strong]. _

_And in her arms the blonde is trembling. She pushes rage and fear so intertwined that it is almost impossible to tell one from the other. "No," she cries. "Don't do this to me. Don't do this to me again. I cannot live without you. He might have been your first. You might think you owe him something, but I. cannot. breathe. without you. Don't you get it?"_

_It almost breaks her, that voice. It almost rips her apart on the spot. But Pazerretti will not wait much longer, and she has to go. She has to. _

_When her lips touch the doctor's, half of her is pleasure and the other half is pain. Searing, scorching pain, and she knows that Pazerretti's hold over her can only grow, can only destroy. _

"_I cannot die...with you." Jane tries to push it with as much conviction as she can. Even if it isn't true, even if it doesn't work, she owes the doctor this much. "I'm in you. Trust it." _

_Maura looks up into her face, her green eyes watery and afraid and...strong. _

_And she lets Jane go. _

_..._

…_... _

They come slowly, like wanderers, and Maura does not realize that she was expecting them until they arrive. Korsak comes first, travel bag over one arm, wiry little dog tucked safely under the other. She has not seen him in anything other than business casual, and she smiles when she sees him heading up the long winding path to her house, jeans rolled up above the ankle.

He doesn't knock, but pushes the door open onto the little living room and looks around, his own face breaking into a smile when he sees her.

They embrace without talking, and Korsak lets the little dog down to sniff around the house. They stand there, in the light from the windows, smiling, and Maura realizes that this is just the beginning. That more will show up.

That she will show up. Eventually.

"There's a two bedroom, half a mile back that way," Korsak says, and Maura knows that he expects more too. She knows the place he's talking about, she's seen it on her walks around the little town, registered it as a viable option without realizing that's what she was doing.

She nods. "Yes," she says, "But for now...come into the kitchen and get a drink."

He smiles as he follows her through the little hall that connects the living room and kitchen.

"Only get here by boat," he says, sounding fake bitter. "Ridiculous."

Maura smiles into the cabinet as she grabs two coffee cups from the top shelf.

"The water looked calm today though," she says, "You can't have had that rough a trip."

There is a brief silence, like Korsak is weighing the next sentence on his tongue. "Do you think it will be...when she comes? The ocean, I mean."

Maura's smile can only widen. It is a beautiful thing to imagine, the sea pitching and rolling, unsettled and choppy. Or even just the big blue expanse parting all together, revealing her Invictu. Home at last.

"I don't know, Vince," she says after a moment. "We'll have to wait and see."

...

…..

_When she finds him, he is in the middle of the bullpen, sitting on a desk, his fingers pressed together like he's praying. But she knows for a fact that he does not believe in any God but himself. She stands looking at him, and after all this time of thinking that he was dead, of thinking that she was directly responsible for his death, the sight of him fills her with a combination of euphoria and fury. _

_He looks up from his lap and meets her eyes. He smiles at her, and she is filled with his joy and his relief. He believes she has come to him so that he can save her, like before. He stands up and holds out his hands to her, and she steps back. _

_[Don't be afraid] he touches the burned and scarred half of his face [It does not hurt. And you will get used to it] The way he pushes these things at her, she does not like it. Even as he tries for gentle and reassuring he feels harsh and aggressive. Was it always like this, and she now has someone to compare him to? Like a wave of nausea, she feels Maura outside, reaching for her, trying to tell if she is okay. _

_[We will get out of here] he takes a step closer to her and this time she doesn't move away. [We will get out of here, and I will fix you.] Excitement. Anticipation. [And it will hurt for a moment, Jane, but then it will be wonderful.] He is close enough to her now that he could take her in his arms. She knows that he wants to by the way his muscles flex. But he doesn't move, and she knows that he has felt her resistance too. _

_[That's what you want, Jane] he says, and this time, when he pushes, there is more than a subtle edge of suggestion. He is compelling her. [This is what you want. To belong to just one person.]_

_She narrows her eyes at him, still not moving away. He does not scare her, not anymore. _

"_I've already chosen the person I want to belong to," she says icily, and his eyes widen at her voice, at the fact that she is __speaking __to him. "I've already chosen," she says again, "I've come to tell you that." _

_[You've come to tell me] his refusal to speak to her is as telling as her refusal to respond to him in the customary way. [You've come to TELL me...that you've chosen that doctor over me?]_

_Jane swallows, but nods, not looking away. _

_He imitates her, nodding seriously, his lips pursed [And you thought I would just accept it and move on. Stop reaching for you, and let you live your life with the person you have chosen?] _

_It is pushed too reasonably to be anything but the precursor to pain. Jane knows this instinctually, the way she came to expect a beating whenever she accidentally called out for her mother after a nightmare. _

_She looks at him. No, he was never gentle with her. He was never with her at all, not the way Maura was. _

"_You don't love me," She wants it to come out of her mouth like a declaration, but it comes instead like a realization. "You don't love me. I am the greatest thing you ever created, and that is all." _

_The words have not even left her completely when he steps forward and grabs her hair. He grabs her, and she can feel him pulling, and she can hear muffled screams from outside, the clatter of wood on concrete. _

_[That's right] he is inside of her head. He is rifling through her memories from the past year without him. He is pushing the doctor aside, and she hates him. She hates him. _

_[I created you.] Possession, ugly and forceful. Almost impossible to resist. [You are mine]_

_And he jerks her forward, towards the door, reaching back to grab something off of the desk. And only when he's used her to blow the front doors off the precinct, does she see what it is, glinting in the sun. _

_And she loves Maura Isles with every inch of her body, and every millimeter of her brain, even the parts that Pazerretti claims to own. She would spare her doctor pain and suffering no matter the cost. She would die for her. _

_She would DIE for her. _

_She would. _

_[MAURA!] She reaches. It is her last chance. It is their only chance. [SAVE ME]_

_He pulls her closer, and he looks at her, eyes wide and confused. He has felt her reach, and he has seen the image she pushed through to the doctor. _

_She looks back at him, determined. She bares her teeth and she sends it again. _

_[Do it. Do it. Maura, Save me] _

_They can both hear the groan of the spire nearby as it bends under her will. Under Maura's will. _

_She watches realization begin to creep over his features, watches him look out into the crowd at the doctor, and then back down...at her Invictu. _

"_Jane," it's out of his mouth like a plea, maybe like an apology, she cannot be sure because at the same moment she feels the cold metal of the spire pierce her skin. _

_And she is all fire, and all ice. _

_And then she is nothing at all. _

_..._

…..

It's Barry Frost's idea to whitewash the interior of her house. He and Maura and Frankie spend an afternoon pushing all of her furniture into the middle of the room, and then the entire next day painting. Maura realizes that their arrival makes her lighter, and when Frankie "accidentally" rolls a wide white stripe down the back of Frost's t-shirt, she really laughs.

It seems fitting that they should arrive ahead of her, and Maura welcomes them with hugs, the same as she did Korsak. In none of her previous lives was she such a hugger, but now, after the two months spent alone here, and the almost four since Korsak arrived, she finds that human contact both strengthens her and keeps her sane.

And when Angela arrives, there is no shortage of contact. She moves into Maura's spare bedroom ("Just until you're not alone anymore, Maura") and she is as affectionate as her daughter was, running a hand along Maura's shoulders in the kitchen, or linking their arms together when they walk the beach.

"I got caught up," she says, when Frankie asks her what took her so long to arrive. "I got caught up with...arrangements." Her eyes go a little misty "I mean...he was her father," she says thickly, "and he deserved some kind of send off."

Maura lays her hand over the older woman's on the counter, and Angela seems to shake herself. "Anyway," she continues after a moment, "I'm not late."

What she means that Jane is not there yet, and so she has not missed anything.

They do not say her name, but they settle into life on the island because they all know that they will stay. She has brought them there because she is going to return to them, of this there can be no question.

"How long was it?" Frankie asks one day. He's found Maura on her back porch, finishing the medical review for the insurance company she now works for. She looks up at him, mind still half on her work.

"Hmm?"

"How long was it?" He asks again. "The last time...for you."

Maura sighs, looking out at the ocean, clouded over today like it's going to storm. "Six months,"

Frankie sits down in the chair next to hers. "It's been longer than that," he says simply.

The doctor nods, but doesn't take her eyes off the water. "Be patient."

...

…...

_She wakes up the feeling of Maura's hands on her skin, like she's just been sleeping, and the Doctor has caressed her to wake her up. She wakes up with the words pressed against her lips, still warm. _

_Go. And then come back._

_She sits up, suddenly aware that she is naked, and then aware that she is cold, that she is surrounded by cold. She shakes her head, then her shoulders, then pulls her knees up to her chest, and as she does these things, the names for each limb returns. She makes a fist and at once they are fingers pressing into her palms. Understanding comes at once, like a rush, she has done what the doctor asked of her. She has come back. _

_But did she come back alone?_

_She looks around her, at the shelves and shelves and rows and rows, and the name comes without much bidding. Cold storage. She pushes the sheet off of herself and moves to stand on wobbly legs. As soon as she is steady, she sets to work. She does not know how she knows, but she knows that he will be here, underneath one of these sheets. She pulls back cover after cover: man, woman, man, man, woman...ah. _

_There he is. _

_For a while she just stares at him, eyes closed, mouth in a thin, straight line. She recognizes the set of those lips as an expression he would wear when she had done something particularly juvenile, and he believed she was acting below her maturity level. _

_She looks at him, waiting for him to jerk and gasp back into life, waiting for his hands to shoot out and wrap around her neck, waiting for him to tell her she belongs to him, and no one else. _

_Nothing happens. _

_She looks down at him, lip between her teeth. [Wake up] she orders firmly, and she reaches for him, trying to wrap herself around part of his mind, the way she used to when she was very young, and he was her savior. [Wake up] she says again, and there are tears in her eyes, angry tears that she does not want. [Why couldn't you just let me go?] she is pushing nothing nowhere. He does not respond, he cannot. So she opens her mouth, so at least the words will have somewhere to go instead of reverberating uselessly in her head. "Why couldn't you just let me go?" She asks again, quietly, like a prayer. _

"_Why couldn't you have stayed kind and been happy that I loved her?" _

_Her. _

_It is like a flame erupts inside of her, burning for all one thing. Jane turns away from Pazerretti's body, and almost immediately the pull is there, steady and reassuring, around her ribcage like a tie._

_She's smiling fully before she knows the word for what her mouth is doing, moving before she knows what walking is. _

_She does not look back. _

_._

_She pulls them as she remembers them, as they come back to her. Her doctor is already there, has already gone and found herself a home tucked against the cliffs and looking out over the ocean. She is already waiting, so when Jane can remember their lives, when she can feel Korsak and Frost, then Frankie and her mother, she tugs them gently. She pushes them towards the ocean. _

_They go without a lot of prodding, like they've been waiting, and Frost even smiles on the boat, when the little island comes into view. He smiles and rolls his eyes, mouthing her name without speaking out loud. She is on the road by then, slower than the time before, a little hazier, but moving, and she smiles at the image of him, saying her name. _

_She likes the idea of them surrounding her girlfriend, keeping her safe and grounded and company. When the doctor falls asleep, Jane reaches out and holds her. She is many many miles away, and she is not as strong as she has been or will be, but she uses what she has to visit Maura in her sleep. _

_[I'm coming.]_

_And although she doesn't really remember what has happened when she opens her eyes, she usually wakes up with the ends of a smile. _

_She always answers. _

_[I know.]_

_..._

…..

She wakes up and it is the day.

She pushes the covers back and swings her feet out of bed, and when she stands up she feels dizzy, like she has taken too deep a breath. Like she has too much oxygen in her system. Everything in the bedroom looks shiny, looks special and perfect and ready. It is this day. She knows it.

She has trouble with buttons. There is one on the fly of her jeans, and a half dozen on the overshirt she chooses from the closet. Her fingers are trembling like they belong to someone else. She cannot make them obey.

There is no one in the kitchen and the living room is empty, but Maura grins at the vacant rooms like they are the backs of people she will never have to see again. She throws the curtains back from the picture window behind the couch and nearly claps her hands together in excitement. The day is sunny and bright, and the sky is the deepest, purest blue that she has ever seen.

This is the day. There is no doubt about it.

…

It is windier on the beach than it was up at the house. She stays close to the water and she walks, aware that if she keeps going in this direction she will arrive at the pier and the marina, where the Ferry brings visitors and residents back from the mainland six times a day. She hasn't worn her watch, but something tells her to slow is hard to relay this message from her brain to her feet and so, by the time she manages to halve her pace, her heart is racing with the effort.

She runs a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face and as she does so, she hears a sound in the distance.

It is the sound of the Ferry, signaling it's arrival at the dock.

Maura stops walking abruptly, like she's hit a wall. Suddenly, she couldn't move forward if her life depended on it. If today is not the day, if her hope is wasted...

Maura turns around facing away, and the tears that have come to her eyes at this new worry break free and roll down her cheeks. What if she does not come today? What if she does not come any day, and they are all left here, keeping vigil for someone who will never return.

"Jane," she says, and her hands come up to her face. "Come back." She starts to cry.

It is immediate, solid, like a real person has wrapped her arms around Maura's waist. Quiet and comfortable and familiar. The doctor gasps because she would know that feeling anywhere. And she is laughing and crying and maybe spinning, she can't be sure. All she is sure of is that she has never felt so relieved to hear that question before in her life. Not ever. Relieved because she knows exactly how to answer, especially when those hands slide around her waist.

[Alright?]

...

...

**[END] **


End file.
